


Twelve

by finnwolfhard (piistachiiooss)



Series: Stranger Things x Male Oc [1]
Category: IT (2017), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Adorable Dustin Henderson, Brotherly Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Canon Gay Character, CharacterxOC, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Dustin Henderson, Gay Male Character, Happy Eleven | Jane Hopper, I'm confused, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Protective Dustin Henderson, byler, dustin and ben are besties, mucas/lumax, prove me wrong, rocky mileven, why is there no tags for male original characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-08-17 11:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16515209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piistachiiooss/pseuds/finnwolfhard
Summary: The Party is blissfully oblivious as Martin Brenner hides in the next state over, testing on more kids. Eleven holds strongly to the thought that Brenner is dead, making sure each of her friends know. One day, Eleven's successor, Twelve escapes the dreaded lab, running hundreds of miles and curiously finding himself in the small town of Hawkins, Indiana. The peace that had fallen over Hawkins crumbles as the new kid and Eleven clash. What happens when Twelve's presence drives a wedge between the Party? Just as Brenner makes an appearance...





	1. More Like You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is just a fanfiction I started after finishing Season 2. I just felt like Dustin's feelings weren't really explored, so I created a separate timeline where they are. I hope you enjoy Chapter One! :)

It was Spring 1985. The air was warm and buzzed with the sound of birds chirping and bees buzzing. Kids giggled and played in the rays of the sun, while their parents stayed inside, watching their television or enjoying each other's company. Unlike normal kids, however, the party was hanging out in the old car lot. Doing what they usually do, reminiscing, chatting, and wondering if their lives of adventure are really over.

And questioning the existence of kids with... Superpowers.

Dustin lobbed another rock at the tire in the distance. The rubber wheel stood in as a hoop as he made another shot. Glancing at Eleven, his thoughts roamed with the new story she had just told everyone.

She had a sister. Somewhere, anywhere, they'd lost each other while being chased by the cops. Dustin wasn't sure if anyone else cared but he was curious. About others. Are there other... 'Freaks'?

Dustin was usually the curious one, the one to ask questions, name things that weren't important to the situation. He was... Staring at the rock resting in his palm, Dustin frowned. What was he? As his thoughts drifted to his own place, his gaze fell over his group of friends. Where did he fit? Everyone contributed something, everyone could do something. What could he do?

He knew things, of course, but anyone could recite what they learned if they had the right mind to. Will the Wise, he took that spot. Leader? Dustin shook his head, turning back to his tire hoop. He could never be a leader, Mike was a better leader. Lucas was obviously the muscle, donned with his Wrist Launcher and the authority to yell at anyone he pleased if they were being 'stupid'. He even got the girl.

That thought struck Dustin in the chest. Clutching his shirt, he thought back to that night. When he'd seen Max and Lucas hold hands. It was clear as day, but Lucas was oblivious to the electricity.

The Zoomer, Mad Max... The Mage, Eleven. The thought hurt, but Dustin didn't really... Do anything. He was just there. He could make a sick dwarf D&D character, but...

Grabbing up another rock, Dustin bounced it in his hand, freezing as a hand gripped his shoulder. Glancing slightly, he realized it was Lucas. Glancing around, he had also realized that now everyone was looking at him. Biting his cheek, he slowly glanced at Lucas again, shaking his head.

"What?"

Everyone seemed to share a mutual glance as Mike spoke up."Well, you were just, kinda..."

"You were talking to yourself, Dustin." Max finished. Dustin tossed the rock away, sighing heavily. "Son of a bitch..." He mumbled as Eleven cocked her head. Sitting close by Mike's side, she felt safe, and very at home. Though, Dustin's odd behavior left her uneasy. Standing from the car they sat on, she approached Dustin, crouching down as he reached for another rock.

Dustin sent her a nervous glare before lobbing the stone, missing the tire completely. Well, there went his streak.

"Dustin." Sighing, his curls shifted gently as he shared Eleven's gaze, his own gaze troubled. "What?"

"You're... Thinking. A lot." Dropping his gaze, Dustin reached up, fixing his cap. "Yeah, so?"

"You're thinking... About my sister? Kali?" With a sigh, Dustin shook his head, the rest of the group, watching in interest. Dustin rested his elbows along his knees, humming softly.

"No. I'm more thinking about... Like, what if there were more?" Lucas grimaced, shaking his head. "More what?" Dustin shifted, to look at Lucas, heaving a breath.

"More people. Like Eleven and her sister." Mike shook his head, his brows furrowed. "There's not. There can't be, Brenner's dead." Dustin's gaze grew serious as he looked over his friends.

"You don't know that; none of us do. We all ran away like a bunch of fucking chickens-"

Eleven seemed disturbed by the conversation, standing up from the ground. She shook her head, quickly, frowning at Dustin. "Papa is dead." Dustin opened his mouth to speak before receiving a whack from Lucas. Dustin clearly wasn't in the best of moods. Letting his negative thoughts build and fester.

Then Lucas had to hit him. Dustin seemed to burst, standing and throwing his cap to the ground. "Son of a BITCH!" He glared at Lucas, pure fury burning in his brown eyes, Lucas leaning away in what look like fear. Shaking his head, Dustin scoffed. "I'm out of here..." Spinning to leave, he snatched up his backpack, hustling away. His friends called for him, but the more they yelled, the faster his steps became. Eventually... He was running full-sprint into the woods.

There was just... So much on his mind and when he finally believed he was getting better, when he finally believed he had his feelings under control, Eleven had to drop that bombshell. A sister who wasn't even really her sister because of background. Sure, they were both brought up by Papa, but sister?

Deep down, the curly haired 14-year-old knew why she told them and really appreciated the information, but everything was becoming too much for him to handle. Stepping onto the road, Dustin kept his angered gaze to the ground, watching as his feet entered his gaze alternatingly. Hot tears stung his eyes as he refused the need to sniffle. A car's rumble enters his ears, some distance away, but Dustin ignores it quite well.

Until it slowed beside him.

Looking up, Dustin was happy to see his new friend, Steve Harrington, watching him from within the BMW. They'd grown close since the whole Demo-dog fiasco, and if he was honest, Dustin didn't think it was such a bad thing. Steve honestly, wasn't a bad guy.

His steps slowed until he was just standing as Steve stalled the car. The car beeps, the signal that the doors are now open and Dustin is thankful. Climbing into the vehicle, he asks Steve to drive him home, the older teen agreeing and noting the broken state his little friend is in.

"Bad day?" Dustin nods, rubbing his cheek.

"You have no idea..."

"Is it the... 'Not feeling part of the Party' shit, again?" Dustin sniffles, sending a glance to Steve. Steve returns the glance and nods, the duo falling into silence. Shaking his head, Steve sighed heavily.

"Little shitheads..."

**\---**

It was only 20 minutes later when the two had finally made it to Dustin's house. The building a little ways up the hill, the path marked by stairs. The house looked down on them, oozing comfort and homeliness. His mother's car sat outside, Claudia most likely inside, watching television as usual. Steve's car rumbled to a stop, The teen leaning out of the driver's window. He searches Dustin's forlorn face before reaching out and tapping his arm.

"Hey, Dickhead," Dustin huffs a laugh at the nickname before meeting Steve's gaze. "Don't let it get to you. Friends come and go, but if they don't see how great a guy you are, then-" He shrugs, gesturing to the woods and frowns.

"They are obviously missing out, okay?" Dustin nods slightly, picking at his sleeves. Taking a shaky breath, he turns to Steve, his voice threatening to crack again.

"Will you go..?" Steve sighs through his nose, gesturing for Dustin to crouch a bit. Ruffling the kid's hair, he throws on a pair of shades. "Kid, I've got nowhere to go." Dustin chuckles for the first time in what felt like ages, sighing away the tension in his shoulders. He nods, thankful for Steve's friendship and takes a step away from the car.

Steve watched Dustin for a moment, shifting in his seat. "You good?" Looking off into the trees, Dustin sighed.

"Yeah, I'm good," Steve smirks, nodding proudly. The car growls to life and the teen turns to look Dustin over again. "Take a day off if you need it, kid. Don't kill yourself for them." He pulls away, Dustin waving slightly.

"Thanks!" He calls, cupping his hands around his mouth. He stands out on the street, watching Steve's car until it finally left his view. From there he let himself rest, retreating into his house. He greeted his mother, and their new cat. He rejected dinner, finished his homework, and spent his day...

Thinking. He thought it made a lot of sense, his argument. And he would not back down. Maybe going the extra mile on his appearance the next day at school would boost his confidence. Even if only just a little.

But he needed a break. Talking to his friends would only make him feel worse. He just needed to figure out how to do that.

**\---**

The next day, Dustin washed and conditioned his hair with the Faberge Organics products, not exactly styling the hair, but simply letting it fall and frame his face as it usually does. Once he finished dressing, he gave a couple spritzes of the Farrah Fawcett spray. His curls were definitely more defined than usual, but he felt no different. Shaking out his hair, he looked at the mess in the mirror and couldn't help but laugh.

"Dusty! You'll be late!"

Dustin made a sound of realization, running about in his room. Grabbing his bag, he pulled it onto his back but couldn't find his baseball cap. Running out into the Living room, he cursed repeatedly. "MOM!"

"Dusty?" Dustin peered behind the couch, turning to look at his mother. "Hey-yeah, uh, have you seen my cap?!" His mother pet Tews carefully, pondering for a moment. Dustin heaved a sigh as she shook her head, sadly. Running a hand through his hair, he sent another glance around the room before stepping to the front door.

"Bye, mom!" Her goodbye is muffled by the door as Dustin shuts it, stumbling to his bike. He glares at the trash can for a moment before hopping on and zooming off down the road. He rode the bike standing, taking a glance back when he heard a car in the distance. The BMW reaches his side, the passenger side window rolling down to reveal Steve. The male smiles as he looks over Dustin's hair.

Turning back to the road, he swapped which hand he had on the wheel.

"School?" Dustin nodded, his breaths quick. They turn around a bend, and Dustin shakes his hair out of his eyes.

"That hair for a girl?" Dustin swallowed heavily, shaking his head.

"No-I thought it would-Would make me feel better." Steve nodded in understanding, sending Dustin another glance as they slowed to a stop. Dustin stood, one foot resting on a pedal, breathing heavily.

"Did it?" Dustin shrugged, staring at the road ahead.

"A little, but it's a -" He stops to breathe, gulping audibly. "Something's different," He heaved. Steve again only nods. Shifting in his seat, he leans out the window.

"Want a ride?" Dustin hums lowly before shaking his head. Sending a small smile to Steve, he shrugs.

"I haven't ridden my bike in a while." Steve scoffed, laughing slightly. Returning to the wheel, he turned it, the car turning opposite to Dustin.

"Later, Dickhead!" Dustin nodded, swallowing again. Waving over his shoulder, he jumped back onto the bike, resuming his wild speed.

Sometime later, he reached the school, pedaling clumsily into the lot. What he thought was the first-period bell rang loudly above him, echoing off of buildings in the distance. He practically crashed into the bike rack, the rush of the bike ride and being late to school pulling a goofy smile onto his face. It might have also been that quick chat with Steve, but who knew.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dustin can see Lucas's bike teeter slightly with the force of the crash. Turning, he fixes his bag onto his shoulders, running into the building. He checks in briefly with the office but rushes to Mr. Clarke's class. Though, he tried, he failed to enter the room like a civil human being, throwing open the door and kicking it closed behind him.

He feels eyes on him, everywhere he looks but sends a smile to Mr. Clarke.

"Morning, Mr. Clarke, sorry I'm late, just continue what you were doing." He fumbles with his bag as he rushes to his seat. Mr. Clarke huffs a laugh, but continues, allowing Dustin to sit in his seat and get comfortable. The party looks on in confusion and surprise, Lucas specifically. Even though the two seemed to be the closest out of the rest.

The kid sitting beside him seemed... Different somehow. The bright smile encompassing his face and making him seem to glow among the rest. His regularly messy brown curls were all defined and seemed to move with life. Not to mention, the hat he left behind yesterday, was now sitting in the cautious boy's bag, waiting to be returned to its original owner. There was something wrong. And if not wrong, Dustin was changing.

Turning to the group sitting behind him, Lucas whispered lowly,

"AV Room Meeting during lunch. We need to talk." He grumbled, nodding in Dustin's direction. Will and Mike nodded, the duo sending a glance to Max. Getting the gesture, she nodded, turning back to Mr. Clarke. The group returned their attention to Mr. Clarke, Dustin's smile faltering, as he sneaked a glance at Lucas.

Was he not invited? Sighing, he dropped his head to the desk.

"Son of a bitch..."


	2. Papa's Little Miracle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya, i've decided to post every friday. i'm a little late today tho.  
> warning; twelve sounds kinda over-powered in this chapter, but really the only powers he has are self-defensive and survival based, for example, his pathokinesis, aura reading, and calokinesis. the only offensive is telekinetics much like Eleven.  
> papa teaches him to use the self-defense in destructive ways.  
> this is honestly my least favorite chapter. ugh. enjoy

####  _Three days before_

 

“Okay, Twelve. Are you ready?” The boy nodded, his gaze dull as he stared at the white rabbit within the glass container. The dreaded smell of pure cleanliness filled the blank white room. It was the smell of hospitals and labs alike. It screamed a lack of germs, a lack of life. A lack of failure. None were tolerated, _He’d_ never allow it. The room was small, four by four, with a viewing room for the men in white.  
  
Twelve stood idle at the far right of the room, his back to the wall as he awaited the green light. A thin hospital gown hung from his thin figure, black hair cropped short. Dark bags made his moderate brown skin paler in comparison. His fingers twitched at his sides, breathing a chore as he tried to keep himself calm. This was just like any other test. He could do this; he would do this because it’s what’s expected of him.  
  
The beginning alarm rang in his ears as he stepped toward the container. He stepped slowly and carefully, his chest knotted as the creature turned to look at him. Its nose flicked with curiosity and Twelve placed his hand against the glass. Looking to the viewing box, Twelve waited for direction, his eyes already teary as he imagined the rabbit’s unmoving body.  
  
“I want you to use the new power you’ve learned, Twelve. Push the fire into the box.”  
  
Nodding softly, he turned back to the rabbit, taking a shaky breath. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he increased his own body heat. His skin grew hot, small bits of blood leaking from his nose. His breaths left in small panting intervals. The fire inside spread from the center of his chest to each of his limbs. Slowly, deliberately. From there it surged to his hand, pushing out of his palm and into the small space.  
  
Sobs shook his very being as the temperature of the glass box heightened. Inside, the rabbit grew visibly uncomfortable, hopping about in the container, looking for a way out. It wanted to live, to survive. But in this lab, it was kill or be killed. Twelve muttered an apology as he pushed the last bit of heat into the small box, the rabbit’s movements growing sloppy and sluggish. It collapsed, it’s breathing slow. Once it was clear that it died, Twelve let himself collapse, pulling his knees to his chest, guilt rattling him to his core.  
  
It was more than crying, more than sobs, Twelve was on the bridge of a mental breakdown. This was the third rabbit he’d killed that day. To test every single one of his ‘new powers’. It was the kind of sobbing that came from a person void of all hope. His pain was palpable outside the small room as scientists rushed to calm him down.  
  
They couldn’t let another _mistake_ like Eleven occur.  
  
The man that then entered the room, moved with an air of superiority even with the messy stumble he endured once he was by Twelve's side. He gave off the slightest touch of compassion, whether realistic or not, everyone was unsure. One thing the scientists were sure of... He was growing impatient. Running out of options. He stood tall at around 5'10, his pale white hair sitting neatly atop his head. The shade dragging more attention to his already frown-y features. To anyone else, it'd seem that Twelve’s well being was the only thing he cared about. But the scientists knew better than that.

His black suit wrinkled as he crouched over the young teen. He cooed softly, trying to console the boy. His hand rubbed small circles into the young teen’s spine as he congratulated him on a job well done. Pulling him into his arms, he pivoted on his heels, leaving the cursed test room. He didn’t stop until the familiar smell of the Deer Room filled both of their nostrils. Lowered to the soft bed, Twelve’s sobs, hushed to occasional sniffles.  
  
Allowing his emerald green eyes to flutter open, Twelve gasped, suddenly at a loss for breath. Surrounding _Him_ was a large suffocating aura of pitch darkness. Twelve blinked, finding more negative colors linked to the black; brown and a muddy shade of red. Sitting up, Twelve shuffled away, pressing himself into the corner. That couldn’t be the same person.  
  
Could it?  
  
Taking a step forward, the man tried to approach, but Twelve only shook his head, whimpering desperately.  
  
“Twelve? Are you alright?”  
  
“I wan-I want to be alone!” He frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in 'worry'. “Are you sure?”  
  
“Please! Please go!” Nodding, the Tall Man straightens out his suit. A scowl seems to fall upon his face at the rejection, turning to leave the room. He steps to the door, gripping it, but hesitates briefly. Twelve's suddenly rebellious nature could mean a plethora of things. Hormones, perhaps. Anger from having to murder three bunnies in one day. Could it also lead to another breakout? He highly doubted it, but he could never be too sure, now could he? He glares over his shoulder, looking over his ‘son’ once more. Nodding, he forces on a soft smile.

“Papa loves you, Twelve... You know that right?” Meeting his 'father's gaze, Twelve buried the lower half of his face into his knees. His gaze drifted to the area surrounding Papa as his aura gripped the walls bubbling and stretching. It caused a sickening feeling of dread to fall over him, Twelve only grunting in reply to the display of affection. Eventually, the door closes, fresh air returning to fill the room. If Twelve looked hard enough he could still see Papa's goopy aura clinging to the walls by the door. Taking a deep breath, he let the information sink in.  
  
Papa was a bad man. He was angry and greedy... Unforgiving... Was that ever really his Papa..?  
  
Many hours later, Twelve was sure of it; Papa was never as good as he made it seem. Was it the next day yet? Glancing at the chart on the wall a couple feet away, he shook his head. He counted the hours on his fingertips, mumbling softly. He hadn't had dinner, so it was still the same day. He shifted slightly, laying out his legs as he leaned on the cold wall behind him. He couldn't stay here. It wouldn't be good for him. They forced him to kill the rabbits. They forced him through the Shock Room.  
  
And now he had to learn that his Papa's aura was dark and menacing; that Papa was a bad man. If he couldn’t trust Papa... Who was there left to trust?  
  
A soft familiar knock echoed from the door, Twelve refusing to smile.  
  
"Dinner Time, Twelve. Come open the door, please." Robin's voice chirped. Twelve's head swiveled to the door, his gaze glaring holes through the simple brown door. Stepping off of his bed, Twelve cocked his head. Staying where he stood, he decided to test his Telekinesis, lifting his hand and pulling the door open with only the flick of his wrist. The kind face that then walked in closed the door behind himself, a tray in his hands.  
  
He grinned at Twelve, stepping to the dinner table and placing the tray down. He walked with a bounce, his shoulders relaxed and eyes round with purity and curiosity. Like the rabbits...  
  
"Hello, Twelve. How was your day?" His voice hummed, lilting through the air. Twelve, stood steadfast, studying Robin until his aura filled the surrounding area. White, purity and protection. Gold, inner peace. Blue, caring and sensitive. Rubbing the area under his nose, Twelve sniffled. Once he was sure it was safe to approach, he slid into the seat beside Robin.  
  
The older male nodded, his grin being replaced with a sweet smile. "Another bad day, hm?" Twelve nodded softly as he used his spoon to pick at his mashed potatoes. Shifting, he looked up at Robin through his eyelashes, speaking at a whisper.  
  
"Papa has a bad man's aura," Robin seemed to grow uncomfortable with this new information, glancing at each of the ceiling corners. With the hurried movements, Robin's soft shoulder-length hair bounced from one direction to the next. Twelve shook his head, taking a bite of mashed potatoes.  
  
"No cameras," Turning back to Twelve, Robin sighed.  
  
"Are you sure you weren't just imagining it..?" Meeting Robin's gaze, Twelve frowned. "Auras.. Never lie." The two fell silent as Twelve took another bite of his dinner. He avoided the meat as he knew where the dinner came from. And never again would he eat what this building calls it's _'Meaty Surprise!'_  
  
Robin watched Twelve finish his mashed potatoes, his small hands pushing away the tray. Furrowing his brows, Robin placed a hand on the tray, leaning to meet the young boy's gaze.  
  
"You need to eat, Twelve. You're getting thin-" Twelve shook his head, scratching at his scalp. "I don't want it," Turning to Robin, Twelve, sighed, pushing a feeling of trust over him.  
  
"I want to go." Robin smiled sadly, shaking his head. "Twelve, I... You know, you can't do that." Twelve reached out for a hug, Robin taking it immediately and encompassing the boy in a warm embrace. "This... Isn’t home..." Robin sighed, resting his chin on the base of Twelve's skull. Shutting his eyes, he scoffed, shaking his head. Standing from the chair, he crouched down, placing his hands on each of Twelve's cheeks.  
  
"You're going to get me killed... You know that..?" Twelve's eyes glimmered as he grabbed one of Robin's hands. "You come with me! Free together," Robin smiled, giving Twelve's hand a quick squeeze.  
  
Cocking his head, he hummed. "Send a postcard when you settle down... Bodaway." Standing up, he grabbed the tray, walking over to the door. Checking his watch, he nodded softly.  
  
"I'll be back at Midnight. Do you remember when that is?" Twelve repeated the term under his breath, turning to the little chart from before. "Lights off," Nodding, Robin grunts. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Twelve gave the question no thought, nodding feverishly. He climbed onto his bed, sitting in the corner as he was before, his knees up by his chest. Nodding himself, Robin sighed.  
  
"Okay... Be ready."

 

 **\---**

 

Twelve rested his eyes, his head placed comfortably on his pillow as he waited. Around him, the world was silent, aside from the occasional pair of footsteps walking down the hall. He had gotten ready just as Robin told him to, choosing to leave all gifts behind. Clothes, however, he took a couple. He didn't have a lot of clothes as he was only permitted to wearing the hospital gown, but sometimes Papa would give him a shirt. Sadly, no one ever gave him pants. Papa didn't like them.

Layered over the thin fabric of the hospital gown, was a thick sweater, tragically oversized and a pale red in color. It draped down to his knees, protecting him from cold chills and stormy nights. On his feet was a pair of winter socks that he had received from Robin last holiday. He was sure Robin had taught him the correct term at some point but he couldn't be bothered to remember at that moment. The sleeves of the sweater were long and comfortable, hiding his small hands from view. 

Outside, it was warm and welcoming with the coming of flowers and sunshine, but the poor boy had no other clothes but those he wore for winter.

Shaking him out of his thoughts, was the loud clunk of the generators shutting down throughout the building. Less of a Lock-in and more of a Lockdown so those driving by were unfazed by the large building in the woods. The sound echoed through the building and into Twelve's ears, within a couple seconds, Robin's signature knock echoed in the small room. Throwing himself off the bed, Twelve stumbled to the door, pulling the door open carefully. Robin stepped in, closing the door behind himself.

"Twelve.. It's midnight." He nodded. "Are you ready?" Turning, Twelve glanced over the remains of his room, nodding softly. Turning back to Robin, he let the male grab his hand as they exited the room. Robin walked with a crouch, sneaking around corners and pulling Twelve into closets to hide from flashlights.  
  
It was a fairly large building, but they made it to the ground floor with no altercations. This floor held all scientists rooms, all security rooms, and the lobby. At Lights Off as Twelve calls it, all Scientists retreat to their rooms after a day of work for a good night's rest. It’s at this time that most of the security guards also go to sleep leaving the night watch to the three Night Guards. One Night Guard patrols each floor, being there are only three floors in this building, the work is split quite evenly.  
  
Twelve is tested in the basement and while the Deer Room sat on the third floor. Reaching the bottom of the landing, Robin pulled Twelve to his side as he led them into the hall. Soft snores filled their ears as they traversed through the Scientists sector. Twelve struggled not to laugh, some snores louder than others as they sneaked by.  
  
They reached the next area, the lobby, Robin exhaling gratefully. Peering back and forth between halls, he kept Twelve at a close distance, listening for any footsteps. After he was sure it was clear, they pushed on, Robin leading Twelve to the door. Pulling out a key card, Robin unlocked the doors, clumsily. A loud ring sounded in reply and Robin swore under his breath. Twelve looked around in fear as quick steps came from a hall to the left.  
  
Before Twelve could do anything he was pushed out the door, gunfire echoing through the trees. He turned to grab Robin, but froze.  
  
Robin stood in the doorway, his face blank as he stared down at Twelve. His eyes were cloudy and lifeless as they blinked rapidly. Red slowly coated his pale jacket from his recent wound. Coughing follows next and blood litters his mouth. Coming back to reality, Robin stumbles, his hand flying to his gut. Frowning, he pushes Twelve, the poor boy frozen in time.  
  
"Go... Go..!" Twelve sobs, watching his friends slowly dying body crumble to the ground. Lifting his gaze, blood slowly leaked from his nose as his gaze landed on the Night Guard. The guard who's gun he now had trained on him. Time seemed to move at a slow down drastically as Twelve lifted his arms, palms to the Night Guard and shrieked. All the glass in the windows of the ground floor shattered and the guard flew, colliding with the wall directly behind him.  
  
Around him, alarms blare and scientists shout in worry and fear. Sending one last glance to his bleeding friend on the ground, Twelve turns to run, never stopping for a second…


	3. Hawkins, Indiana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a really short one; double upload!

Twelve stumbled about clumsily, his socks torn up from the rough forest ground. Wrapped around his left calf was a limp cloth he had stolen from a diner. A jagged cut from a hostile bush was hiding underneath. It hurt, and the pain didn’t seem to be dying down. Each pulse of pain spread to his fingertips and to the top of his head.

But he knew if he stopped for too long, Papa’d find him. With each step, Twelve could feel himself growing more fatigued, his lids heavy with sadness. Around him, the forestry all blended together, the twelfth tree from the right looking quite similar to the one directly on his left. As he took a soft left, Twelve’s thoughts drifted back to two nights before. Maybe if he’d moved a little faster...

He could’ve saved him. There was still time.

Wasn’t there?

Sniffling softly, he limped past a decaying tree and onto a lone road. He studied the top and bottom of the road from where he stood, his emerald orbs squinting severely. Was it always this sunny? Taking a step, he hummed at the sight of a road sign in the distance. Taking in a deep breath, he forced himself to approach the sign as quickly as he could.

Lifting his arm, he released his hand from the sleeve, rubbing the debris of his travels out of his eyes. On the sign read,

‘Welcome to Hawkins’.

Hawkins... How far did he walk? He didn’t remember seeing a Hawkins on any map in the Lab. He sidestepped the sign, cocking his head as he stared down at the town in the distance. It was small, where he could easily see the road leaving from where he stood. There was an apparent leap in his chest when his gaze fell on a large building at the center of the town. It screamed safe, in his eyes, he’d need to get there before sun fall.

Getting a move on, he returned to the side of the road, padding through the crunchy leaves and small stones. The pain the stones’ inflicted hidden behind the sudden burst of vigor the small boy had. With his pace, he was sure he’d make it to the building before midnight. Before sun fall, however?

That... He wasn’t so sure of.


	4. Mama Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, upload 2 of 2. i've been editing and re-editing this chapter for weeks and i'm still unsure if i like it. but a promise is a promise; a schedule is a schedule. until next week

**_The Present_ **

 

This was shit. But not the shit that hits the fan, oh, no. This was just a large pile of _bullshit_. History seemed to repeat itself, though with a new twist. Instead of Max on the outside, Dustin was left locked out as the rest of the party sat within the AV Room, whispering. Mumbling. Aggressively. He wished he could say that he had no idea what they were talking about, but the sad thing was,

It was obvious they were talking about him.

Just the way they avoided him all day, glancing at him when they thought he wasn’t looking. Leaving him to sit alone at the lunch table. Though, it probably was more his own fault than their’s right? He obviously did something wrong for them to be treating him like this.

Right?

Scoffing heavily, Dustin finally knocked for the first time, calling out for Lucas. With no response, he resumed, knocking a couple more times and calling for Mike. A bit of hushed whispering, and shuffled footsteps. He waits a moment before knocking again.

“Guys, I-”

“Man, can’t you take a hint?!” Freezing in his place, Dustin frowned. The voice was a bit muffled, but it was obviously Lucas. After he said it, there were numerous other voices mumbling in distaste at the harsh tone. Stomping, then silence. The door flies open.

Lucas stands in the doorway, glaring at Dustin, but all Dustin can see is the party. All sitting around the desk, avoiding his gaze. Meeting Lucas’s gaze, he shakes his head, huffing a laugh.

“Wha-Take a _hint_?”

Lucas rolled his eyes harshly, leaning on the doorway. “Listen, Dustin. Just.. Go eat lunch, we can talk later.” Dustin scratched at the back of his head, taking a deep breath to force away the sour taste at the base of his throat.

“Well, I-” Lucas blew raspberries, waiting for Dustin to simply walk away, but it never happened. Dustin lifted his gaze, cocking his head. “What are-”

“Dustin, dude. Just go.”

“But I-”

“You know what? Go hang out with _Steve_ or something! Damn..” The door shuts in Dustin’s face, breaking the dams he worked so hard to keep locked up tight. The tears fell at a constant speed as he tried to hide his face from people that walked by. He sniffled audibly, walking away from the door.

Within the AV Room, Mike struggled to keep his own composure at the sound of the usually happy-go-lucky party member crying. Lacing his fingers, he placed his knuckles on the bridge of his nose, repeating the motion as if to punish his stupid behavior. The room is quiet, Lucas seemingly frozen at the door. His hand was still tight on the doorknob.

He wanted so badly to throw the door back open and to apologize, but he wanted to be tough-No. He needed to be just as tough as Dustin was at the Car Lot. This was supposed to feel good, he was supposed to feel confident after that.

So why does his chest ache with every breath? Why does his ego crumple as Dustin’s sniffle replays in his mind? Turning from the door, he brought his knees to his chest, resting his elbows on top and gripping fistfuls of his hair. Max, worried but silent, hurries to Lucas’s side, trying her best to console him.

Half-way across the school, Dustin wanders, his gaze empty as he watches the tiles under his feet. His hands were stuffed into his pants pockets, keeping his chilled fingers warm as it felt as if his heart was still. Pumping no blood. He felt lifeless.

Was this his unofficial official last day in the Party? Was he going to be alone again? He had no other friends, at that school, of course. It had only been five minutes, and Dustin already missed his friends. Or perhaps it had been longer. He hadn’t truly spoken to them since the afternoon of the day before. Frowning deeply, he took a swift turn into the bathroom to his right, feeling another round of tears filling his eyes.

The door swings closed behind him and he lifts his gaze only to gaze at himself in the mirror. Dull hazel eyes glare back at him through swollen sockets, his face void of any emotion besides distaste. Lucas, Mike, and Will surround him and he grows happy. His eyes go wide with surprise as he scans each of them through the mirror. For a moment, he feels whole, the naked feeling that once encompassed him is replaced with a feeling much like ecstasy.

A brief high that he knows will go away. And it does.

Not a moment later, they fade away, taking his heart with them. His reflection grows distorted, blocked by fresh tears. He can’t muffle the sob that escapes him, his legs crumpling underneath him. He rests on the bare cold floor, the world dimming around him. Blinded by loneliness, he doesn’t hear the creaky squeal of a bathroom stall opening.

It opens slowly, a young boy stepping out, he prepares to run, socks gone from his feet and the clothe gone from his calf. He turns but freezes at the sight of another kid crying. His sobs struck a chord in his chest as he listened. It reminded him... Of himself.

Approaching slowly, he kneels down, reaching out. His hand lands softly on Dustin’s shoulder, his body jerking in reply. Looking up, he stared at the stranger in confusion.

“Crying..?” His small voice asked. Dustin shook his head, huffing a laugh.

Rubbing his cheeks, he tried to sniffle away the pain. “I-I wasn’t..! I’m fine.” The kid seems to frown in distaste as if the lie hurt him somehow. Their eyebrows furrowed, hands hidden underneath giant sleeves. Dustin took this time to inspect the strange kid, cocking his head. His close-shaven scalp and lost gaze seemed almost familiar somehow. Their frail frame and tear-stained cheeks.

“You... Where did you come from..?” He mumbled, already regretting the answer. If he’s proven right and Eleven finds out, she won’t be happy. In fact, with the new person she’s become... She might be pissed. The kid dropped their gaze, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves.

Smiling softly, Dustin leaned, catching their gaze. “Let’s make a deal. You tell me your’s and... I’ll tell you mine... Okay?” The kid was silent, searching Dustin’s eyes. For what, neither of them knew, but eventually, he sighed, nodding reluctantly. Underneath the sad, bleak exterior, Dustin was glad to have someone to talk to. Something to take his mind off of the heartache he was currently trying to hide.

He’d have to address it in a minute... But for now, he was fine with this.

“I... I don’t know,” The kid started, staring off in confusion. Cocking his head, he squints. “Far away. A-A ‘lab’...” He heaved a soft breath before meeting Dustin’s gaze. Dustin gave a smile as he nodded.

“And your name?” He shook his head with a grimace. “Twelve.” Dustin bit his inner lip to keep from grinning, the boy a bit too happy that he was right in the long run. Brenner was alive and still testing on kids. And this one seemed to be taken after Eleven if the names meant anything. Dustin’s gaze drifted down to the kid’s leg and he gasped, planting his hands on the ground.

“Holy shit, what happened to your leg?!” Twelve winced, his wound having been brought up, his attention was brought back to the pain. Looking down at it, he frowned.

“Angry bush,” Dustin smiled in confusion, sitting on his heels. “Angry bush? What the hell does that mean?” Each ‘s’ sound lisped as Dustin spoke it, Twelve barely noticing. Twelve shrugged shaking his head.

“I had to... To pee..! But the bush got mad..!” Dustin couldn’t help but laugh having heard the story. His laugh echoed off the bathroom walls and into Twelve’s ears, causing him to smile. Though his smile was more one of nervousness and confusion, as he couldn’t see what was so funny about a bush that scratched his leg.

Gathering his bearings, Dustin pushed himself up from the ground, dusting off his pants. He twisted around to briefly check his backside. When he found nothing, he stretched a bit, watching the kid on the ground. Reaching out a hand, he chuckled.

“Well, come on. If you leave your leg like that, you’ll have to like, cut it off.” Twelve took Dustin’s hand immediately, stumbling to his feet. A look of fear took up his face as he stepped to Dustin’s side.

“Cut off my leg?!” Dustin nodded, leading the way out of the bathroom. “Yeah, you’ll have to hop around on one leg or something. Instead of Twelve, you’d be Two.” As he spoke, Dustin leads the way down the hall. Twelve limped after him, still very frightened by the thought of having to chop off his leg. And he’d have to change his name to Two?

Glancing over at Twelve, Dustin shook his head. “Ah, forget it. I just wasted good material on you,” Twelve hissed lowly, his leg hurting more nothanen before. Glancing at his new friend, Dustin frowned.

“You ok?” Twelve shook his head, grasping at his gashed calf. Nodding, Dustin stepped over, crouching in front of him. Twelve stared in confusion for a moment before Dustin laughed. “You really don’t get anything, do ya? Get on my back. I’ll carry you, no problem.” Twelve still refused, standing quietly behind Dustin. He tried to walk past him, but again fell short, almost tripping from the pain. Dustin only watched smugly as Twelve turned to see if Dustin had seen him.

Shaking his head, Dustin waved off the look. “Nah, don’t worry. I totally didn’t just see you almost bust your ass being stubborn.” Twelve, though he didn’t quite understand what that word meant, stubborn, he knew he couldn’t get far on his leg. Not in this condition. He crossed his arms across his chest, heaving an angry sigh.

“I need help...” He mumbled, inaudibly. Dustin squinted, cupping his hand by his ear.

“Wha-What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.” Spinning on his heels, Twelve decided to ignore the pain, stomping off out of the building, Dustin struggling to keep up. Blood clearly trickled down the poor boy’s leg as the stomping forced the pumped blood out of the body. Dustin threw the school’s door open, glancing back into the building in fear.

Was he skipping?!

“Oh, shit-TWELVE! COME BACK, I THOUGHT WE WERE GOING TO THE NURSE!” He called running off to catch up with him.

**—-**

Almost an hour later, Dustin and Twelve are about half-way to Dustin’s house. Twelve is now propped up on Dustin’s back, his arms dangling off of his shoulders. It wasn’t all that much higher than he was tall, but to Twelve, he felt like a giant. Up on Dustin’s back, he could see far into the forest and he kind of liked that.

Twelve wasn’t all that heavy. In fact, in comparison, Dustin would have to say that Eleven was heavier, but Eleven had more food in her when he carried her. This was different. This was a kid fresh out of a lab, running away. No food in their system or anything. Or at least...

As far as he could tell, anyway.

But now his thoughts wandered, his lost hat, that he then remembered he left in the Car lot. His lost bag and jacket, that he left at school because Twelve is stubborn as shit. Sighing, he shook his head with a heavy sigh. What was his mom gonna think, when the school calls her to say he skipped school?! Would they assume he skipped school? He left everything at the school, they’d probably say he got kidnapped. Teen-napped?

“I’m so dead. I’m so fucking dead-This is you’re fault, I blame this all on you.” Twelve hummed in reply, staring off into the trees. Glancing down at Dustin, he frowned.

“But you’re right here.” Rolling his eyes, Dustin sighed. “No, not like that! My mom’s gonna kill me!” Twelve then frowned, leaning to look at Dustin’s profile.

“Why..?” He questioned, innocently. Dustin stopped walking to take a short break, his patience wearing thin.

“It’s a mom thing. If you leave school before it’s done, the school calls your mom, mom gets mad, mom bans you from ever leaving the house.” Nodding slowly, Twelve fell silent. Dustin returned to walking, turning onto the road to his house. They walked for a bit, moving at a snail’s pace, Dustin blurting anything that came to mind and Twelve not understanding any of it.

He didn’t understand Dustin as a person, but he was entertaining. And kind. So where else would he go?

A car’s engine rumbles in the distance, Dustin sighing in relief. Stopping, he turns as the BMW stops beside the two kids. The window rolls down and Steve frowns, worry clear in his brown eyes. The cars beeps, allowing Dustin to place Twelve in the backseat and climb into the passenger seat, himself. Steve asks no questions, only watching the kid in his backseat, as he speeds off down the road.

Soon enough they make it to Dustin’s house, Steve driving in and parking in the drive way. Dustin jumps out, just as Steve does and tosses him the house keys. As Dustin struggles to pry Twelve out of the car, Steve opens the front door, waiting almost patiently for the two younger boys.

Stumbling inside, Dustin directs his small party to his room, sitting Twelve on his bed. Steve had already raided the bathroom, grabbing Rubbing Alcohol, cotton balls, and large bandages. Twelve didn’t quite trust Steve, but sat still for the sake of Dustin who was anxiously fiddling with the bandages. Steve cleans the gash with the Rubbing Alcohol and cotton balls, Twelve wincing, but not flailing and kicking.

He was, however, very thankful when the cleaning portion was over.

Dustin, having finally gotten the bandage unwrapped, placed it over the wound, patting it twice. Steve and Dustin then shared a glance, Dustin gesturing to the hidden wound.

Frowning, Steve shrugged. “What?” Dustin nodded in the direction of Twelve’s leg.

“You gotta kiss it.”

“What?!” Dustin nodded. “Yeah, I may be 14, but I still believe that Mom kisses fix everything.” Steve shook his head, scoffing lightly.

“Listen, _dickhead_ , I’m not kissing some random kid’s ‘boo-boo’ for you.” Dustin smirked, placing a hand on his chest.

“So, you admit you’d do it for me?”

“N-No, I wouldn’t do it for you-This is ridiculous. Can I go?” Shaking his head, Dustin’s smile fell. “You gotta kiss it, Steve! Don’t be a wet blanket, just do it!” Steve looked over at Twelve, the boy only sitting quietly, watching the two argue. Dustin again gestured to the wound, Steve groaning obnoxiously.

“You know what? What the fuck.” Leaning down, he placed a peck on Twelve’s leg, patting it twice after for good measure. Turning, he gave Dustin a forced smile. “Happy?” Getting up from the ground, he left the room, Dustin grinning, childishly.

“Thanks, Steve!” Twelve sat up, looking down at his bandaged leg. Inspecting it, he remembered that Dustin had brought up Mom kisses. Furrowing his eyebrows, Twelve turned to Dustin.

“Steve is Mama?”


	5. Dustin Henderson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from this chapter and onwards, you'll notice a difference in the way the chapters are formatted. for example, less time skips. one chapter will, for the most part, be one scene.  
> i also want to thank you all for the reads and comments! it's really refreshing to know that people actually like this. many thanks xx

The clock on the far side of the room beeped loudly as Dustin’s bedtime came around. He’d spent the whole day with Twelve, only leaving for dinner and the inevitable scolding he received from his mother. Outside, the world was dark and silent. Chilly breezes brushing by and shifting brightly pigmented leaves that hung attached to the trees. It was a clear night; the stars shining brightly from outside his window.

Thankfully, Twelve was good at keeping quiet, ‘mama’ never having to come into the room. Not having a single worry about Dustin and the way he spent his day.

Despite the fact that he was letting some boy hide in his room.

After dinner, Dustin sneaked some leftovers into his room, passing the plate to Twelve. Twelve, grabbed the plate, thankfully, placing it on the floor in front of him. Twelve had taken to hiding at the foot of Dustin’s bed, by the small armchair. It was a fairly small space, that Dustin tried to avoid since Dart.

Shutting his door, he climbed onto his bed, already donned in his pajamas, an old tee and a pair of thin sweatpants. Laying out on the bed, he watched Twelve silently. They ate the contents of the plate quite fast, practically scarfing down the entire plate. He wondered if Brenner had fed him. If Brenner cared if Twelve ate at all. Humming softly, he dropped his gaze, holding his chin up with his left palm.

Twelve eventually finished up, Dustin taking the plate and failing to sneak it into the sink. He and his mother go through an awkward altercation of her scolding him and him insisting that he won’t get sick from the ‘extra food’. Sighing in defeat, she lets him run off to his room, scooping Tews into her arms and settling into her favorite armchair.

As soon as Dustin shuts the door, his Walkie Talkie crackles from within his bag. His mother, as well as yelling at him for leaving the school, angrily gave him his things. Among those things was his cap and a note from who he thought was Will. He couldn’t bring himself to read it, knowing what had happened earlier in the day. _Why didn't anyone do anything?_  Obviously, because they all agree.

It was that simple.

Snatching it out of the bag, he didn’t answer, only holding it up to his ear to listen. He could feel Twelve’s eyes watching him from the corner of the room, but stayed silent as the device began to crackle again.

“Dustin? Dustin, are you there? Over.” Mike’s voice questioned. Sending a nervous glance to Twelve, Dustin lowered the Talkie from his ear. He moved to place it down only for Mike to call out again.

“Dustin, I know you’re upset. I-” He sighs as his voice cracks audibly through the device. “Lucas went way too far today, and I know he’s not going to apologize-” Dustin pressed the button, shutting his eyes tightly. He spoke quickly, index finger and thumb pressed against the bridge of his nose, cutting his friend off. “So what, you’re going to apologize for him?” Heaving a sigh, he moved to sit on his bed, forgetting to say over.

“No. He did this, he needs to apologize by himself. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you? Okay, I mean?” He stumbled over his words, Dustin reaching up to scratch his head. He grabbed a hair knot from his dresser and pulled his curls up into a ponytail.

Grabbing the Walkie, he shrugged. “No. But what difference does it make?”

“None.” Mike heaves a breath. “You’re... I hope you don’t think you’re kicked out of the party. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Dustin huffed a small laugh, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

“I did for a while. I figured you'd say something like that, Mike.”

“I was looking for you all day. Did you skip?!” He questioned, probably trying to lighten the mood. Shaking his head, Dustin glanced at Twelve with a smile. The boy seemed very confused, watching Dustin from his comfy little corner.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Honestly, man, it’s crazy.” Mike scoffed playfully before replying. “Try me, Grognak.” It felt good to be talking to at least one of his friends, the smile that now harbored his cheeks, almost painful. Dustin hummed trying to find a way to water down the story without giving off too many hints.

“I... Found this kid in the boy’s bathroom. He looked way lost.”

“Seriously? You skipped school for a _lost_   _kid_?” Dustin nodded, though he knew Mike couldn’t see him.

“Well-Yeah! But dude, it was so weird. B-but they’re pretty cool. Then they just-They just marched out of the building-” Mike laughed.

“Now, I know you’re lying.” Dustin scoffed. “Say what you want, Mike, but-” Before he could finish he could hear his mother walking towards his room, in one swift movement, he jumped off his bed, threw the sheet onto Twelve and sat ‘innocently’ as she opened the door. Her kind smile peers through the door, gesturing to the Walkie Talkie.

“Say goodbye, Dusty. Bedtime.” Nodding, he shoos her out of the room. The door shuts and Dustin struggles to pull the sheet off of Twelve. The boy looks quite shaken, shaking his head as the light finally hits his eyes again. Grinning, Dustin laughs. “You okay?” Twelve nods, the both of them turning back to the Walkie Talkie once Dustin realizes that he hadn’t taken his finger off of the button.

Just as he had feared, Mike spoke in confusion. “Who are you talking to..?” He questioned, suspicion clear in his voice. Huffing a laugh, Dustin shook his head.

“No one, what are you talking about?” He tried to hide the squeak in his voice, but Mike gasped.

“Dude, are you having a _sleepover_ with the kid?! You just met ‘em!” Dustin sent a frightened glance to Twelve, pressing the button. “Uh! I’ll talk to you later, Mike. Bedtime, you know. Over and Out!” He speaks frantically, slamming the antenna down. Throwing it into his bag, he sighed in relief. He knew it wouldn’t end there. Mike would have questions at school tomorrow, but for now, it was okay.

Hopefully.

“Name?” Twelve’s voice called from his spot. Dustin’s gaze snapped to Twelve, almost forgetting that the poor boy was there. Sighing heavily, he scratched at his hairline.

“Oh! I didn't-?" Squinting, he glanced at Twelve before continuing. "I guess I forgot-I’m Dustin-Henderson-Dustin Henderson,” Nodding softly, Twelve stepped out from behind the chair. “Dustin Henderson.” Dustin smiled, shaking his head.

“Just Dustin,” Nodding again, Twelve manages a smile.

“Dustin.” Twelve steps over to the terrarium on the dresser on the opposite side, admiring the turtle inside. Cocking his head, he watched the slow animal maneuver around the tank. Dustin was busy trying to find somewhere for his guest to sleep other than the floor. It was times like this when he wished he knew what kind of bed his mother had gotten him. Could it possibly be hiding a pull-out? Maybe. Could it also be a completely normal, misshapen bed? Sure. Pulling open his door, he peers his head out, yelling at his mother. “MOM!”

“Yes, Dusty?”

“Does my bed have a pull-out or what?” There’s a moment of silence before Ms. Henderson answers. “Maybe. Why?” Shaking his head, he closes the door.

“NOTHING!” Grabbing the lower layer of the bed, he pulled, grateful when a bed revealed itself. Conveniently, it already had sheets covering it. He muttered victoriously, before going into his closet and pulling out a fluffy comforter. Throwing it onto the bed, he climbed onto the upper bed, crossing his legs under himself.

Turning to Twelve, he grins as Twelve reaches in, touching the shell. “That’s Yertle.” Frowning, Twelve turns to Dustin.

“Yertle?”

“Yeah, Yertle. Cute, huh? He’s my pet turtle, Tews basically belongs to my mom.” Twelve turns back to the smooth-backed animal, hiding his grimace. He shrugs lightly, figuring any name was a better name than Twelve. Pulling his hand out, he heaves a sigh, turning to the now exposed, extra bed. Stepping cautiously, he approaches it only for Dustin to laugh at him.

“It’s not gonna bite you. It's your’s.” With that Twelve sat quickly on the bed, grabbing the comforter and wrapping it around himself. All that remained of him was the top of his head, his emerald eyes peering out at Dustin. Grabbing his own sheet, Dustin pulled it over himself. Laying out on his bed, he held his head up with his hands. The two sat in silence, the only light being the lamp on the nightstand. The clock now read 9:30 as Dustin turned to look at Twelve. He pursed his lips as they seemed to be meditating in the mass of sheets, their eyes shut, but still sitting up, comfortably.

He wondered if he really was like Eleven and Eight. If he had powers that made him a threat to anyone. He also wondered if Papa was really out looking for him. And if he’d ever guess that the boy ran back to the one place that man would never be welcome.

To Hawkins, Indiana. That got Dustin thinking, how did they know how to get here? And did they even know that they were headed to this hellhole of a small town? Shaking his head, he rested his forehead on his arms, heaving a sigh. He had a lot of questions. Was this how Mike felt when he found Eleven?

No. When he found Eleven there was no Eleven already there to compare her to. This situation was way different. With Eleven already in Hawkins, there’s probably a lot of power manifesting in the air or something with Twelve now here. It may sound highly unlikely, but being that they just saved the world from the Mind Flayer, a fictional character from one of the best fantasy games in existence, anything was possible. Anything.

Turning his head, he’s almost surprised to see Twelve watching him.

“Thinking,” Is all he says, his voice muffled by the large sheet. Dustin nods softly, sighing through his nose. “Yeah. I’m just thinkin’.” Twelve blinks in interest, pulling the sheet down from his mouth. “About what?” Shaking his head, Dustin smiles.

“Nothing.” Twelve didn’t seem convinced, but nodded, lying down. His body was still hidden within the sheet. He looked like a giant caterpillar. Dustin pulled his head up, scratching at his scalp.

“It’s getting late. Let’s go to sleep.” Reaching out, he plucked the lamp string, the room falling into darkness. Dustin lies down, shutting his eyes. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until now, yawning softly. On the lower bed, Twelve stares into the darkness, still feeling very unsafe, staying in the same place. Around him, the darkness seemed to grow thick, before he knew it he was struggling to breathe. It pressed down on his chest, blocking his mouth and nose. He could breathe enough to function, but...

Shifting, he looks up at Dustin’s curly ponytail.

“Dustin?” His voice was rushed as if to make sure the silhouette really was the curly haired goof. It shifts and Dustin groans. “Hm..?” With that he was sure. Settling into the sheet, he let himself calm down. Twelve breathed slowly. The darkness around him settled, lighter than before, and eventually, he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter question; do you use sneaked or snuck when writing? and which do you think is correct?   
> personally, I like to use snuck even if it looks and sounds kinda illiterate.


	6. Will Bo Peep and Grognak the Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this didn't actually take as long as i thought, but it's two times longer so apologies for that.  
> (it's gone from 2000+ to almost 6000 whoops)  
> but on the bright side, i've added more easter eggs and such. as well as a crossover  
> i like this a heck of a lot more than the original version, but as there is with anything I write, i still see the flaws and wish i had an editor. yeesh

Being in such a close-cornered situation was never on Dustin's bucket list. In fact, he liked to say he had no need for a bucket list, the list only standing as a physical reminder that someday you die. And Dustin never liked to think about that. The concept of life and death confused him at times, though he, of course, understood what it meant for him and those around him. He supposed the biggest part that annoyed him about death was everyone’s calmness towards the subject. Ask anyone and they’ll simply wave it away. Uttering something along the lines of, ‘it happens to all of us!’ or some other stupid crap. And they were right, it did happen to everyone. He’d die someday, maybe, but not anytime soon.

His friends surrounded him like the bars of a jail cell, keeping him stuck by the lockers leading to their next class. Their faces all showed various levels of worry, all except for Lucas, who exerted obvious distrust and suspicion. Beside him, he could feel Will's smaller form trembling. With each accusing question, he sank farther back, his breaths growing shorter. Dustin knew about Will’s proneness to panic attacks as of recent and worried a lot if he was honest. Dustin felt that Will was almost right underneath him, but knew it was impossible with both their bodies pressed to the lockers. Dustin wasn't a Paladin and he'd never be, but if it came down to it, he'd probably have to fight his way out.

For Will's sake, right?

Looking back, he didn't quite remember what led up to this moment, the group all huddled around the lockers, Will and Dustin being forced to prove their honesty. The air’s thick with Lucas’s anger and, while completely out of hand, understandable frustration at his friend's secrecy. The day went by just as simple as ever, Dustin recalled, having Science with everyone, English with most of them, Algebra with none of them, and History with Will. They were the tensest classes he’d ever had since joining the party, so they were anything but normal, but simple nonetheless. Thankfully, he had signed up for another extracurricular besides the AV Club; the only club with only four students and a terribly inconsistent meeting schedule. Turned out he was pretty good at Musical Theatre.

He’s never felt so inclined to punching Lucas until today. He was usually so level-headed in these situations.

**8 a.m Science**

**Mr. Clarke**

The group piled into the class, Mr. Clarke beaming just as brightly as ever, greeting each kid with wholehearted kindness. Dustin couldn't help but smile in reply, being in the very presence of his favorite adult on the entire Earth. Besides his own mother, of course. Despite the comfort Mr. Clarke was unintentionally giving to Dustin, he couldn’t help but feel very out of place. A bit more than normal, he supposed. He found himself sliding into his seat, glancing nervously at Lucas as that whole morning, the kid had been exuding an air of agitation when being anywhere near Dustin. Dustin wasn't sure if it was just his imagination or if Lucas still hated his guts. It had only been a day, but personally, he hoped it was the former and not the latter.

The bell rings and Mr. Clarke jumps right into pumping out the lesson with such an animated beat, that even Jennifer Hayes in the very back was paying some kind of attention. Dustin tried his best to pay attention, as well, knowing that they had a project due that Friday and that it would be based around the lesson. And the lesson, he gathered, was something about plants and what they provided for their environments; how they interacted. No matter how much he tried though, his eyes seemed to continuously drift over to Lucas, instead of reading whatever Mr. Clarke was scrawling onto the board.

He wanted to pay attention, Science was his best subject. A good grade was inevitable if he really applied himself to the lesson. There was nothing he loved more than learning about the natural world and how it resembled a certain magical fantasy board game in some ways; but how could he do it with Lucas's empty glare poking holes through his very soul?

He couldn't, that's how. So when the bell rang, Dustin rushed to pack his bag, feeling very disgusting in his own skin. It was like millions of worms and roaches traveled along the surface of his skin, Lucas’s gaze hot on his back, even as he escaped the room. When he practically ran out of the class, he had his bag slung over his shoulder, gripping the straps with a ferocity he could only describe as a Level 11. His next class would be his only freedom from Lucas's harsh gaze before Lunch. So he moved quickly, not looking back as he made a distinct beeline for Algebra.

**9:46 a.m English**

**Mr. Dennon**

Mr. Dennon always spoke with a bored, almost southern-drawl that wasn't too odd for someone of his age. That man had been all over America and he never hesitated to inform any stragglers of it. Anyone who ever disobeyed him earned an earful of his life’s travels, the bell usually proving as the only way out. His stringy white hair would float along with the rare breezes that drifted through the classroom, on the anything but rare days that the windows were open. Even during the Winter, he finds some excuse to open a window, whether it be to wake the kids up or the classic, 'But my Rheumatism.' Mr. Dennon was okay at his job. There were probably millions of other English teachers in the state of Indiana itself that could teach better than him. But Hawkins Middle School got stuck with him. It was no secret among everyone in the grade that English was the class for sleeping and catching up on homework as the poor old man had no way of running around and keeping up with the lot of his classes. Sometimes finding an escape in the occasional nap.

Sometimes, Dustin felt bad for him, brought him an apple occasionally. He never looked too hard for the good apples though, as all his teacher love for Mr. Clarke left none for the soft-spoken man.

Coincidentally, Dustin chose the right day to be a second late to the class. Mr. Dennon was already, neck deep in a book, his snores echoing off the walls of the small, four-walled room. Scanning the rows of students, it was clear many people were sitting within their respective friends' groups. And in the corner sat his group, or what he thought was his group as when he went to approach, he received a very direct glare from Lucas himself. That made his heart drop and his knees lock. So he made a sharp left.

And landed right in a seat next to the school's fat kid, whose name he learned was Ben. It seemed they were both alone in a room full of groups and Dustin almost didn't hate his accidental choice of seating. Ben was a simple kid, he liked English, but hated the teacher, so he learned most of the material himself, reading many of the books on his Library retreats. He was a poet at best and Dustin could relate, being a bard, of course. It also seemed both he and Dustin shared a love for bringing old Mr. Dennon the limpest apples from breakfast.

Dustin couldn't feel it at the time as he was too busy trying to understand the literature that Ben was explaining to him, but a couple of his friends watched him from where they sat. Confused by his sudden distance and refusal to be around them. Mr. Dennon's class had gone for an extra 10 minutes to make sure Lunch started precisely at 11. That usually happened to the classes that landed in the period before Lunch, with a stupid rotating schedule, Dustin never found it easy remembering his classes. So while every other kid in the school knew their schedules by heart, Dustin still spent a full minute after each class, pondering which class he had next and fighting the craving to pull out his old wrinkled schedule in the middle of the hall. It seemed to take forever, but eventually, the bell rang obnoxiously, interrupting Ben mid-sentence. Standing to their feet, Dustin and Ben seemed to move in sync. Ben sends Dustin a smile akin to a million sunrays, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Dustin regretted to note, that the bag was quite small in comparison to the boy.

"Thanks for sitting with me, Dustin. It was nice meeting you." Swallowing clumsily, Dustin let himself reach out and pat Ben's shoulder comfortingly.

"You too, Ben. Uh-Talk to you later?" It came out as a question as Dustin was unsure of how the next few days would go. If he would even be allowed his seat or if it would be given to Max, who he was sure had taken his place in the group after his outburst. Ben walked Dustin to the door, nodding softly. His shoulders rose and fell with a shrug as his gaze again fell on Dustin's very nervous face.

"Sure. I don't mind!"

**11 a.m**

**Lunch**

Dustin ended up walking with Ben to the cafe, too uncomfortable by the feeling of having to have Lucas stare him right out of his skin. Ben rambled on about his family and how he had moved to Hawkins from Maine and in return Dustin tried his best to make for interesting comebacks as he balanced watching his surroundings and eyeing Ben. They reached the cafe moments later, the room bustling and warm with the spring day outside. Rays of sunlight poured in from every window leaving a very inviting cloud of comfort in the usually very intimidating room. The doors to the courtyard eating area on the far side were finally open for once and Dustin felt himself growing happy for the first time that day.

He decided, much against his better judgment, to sit with Ben out in the courtyard, avoiding eye contact with the group he refused to give up on. He still couldn't calculate when everything had fallen out. Though at the back of his head, he blamed it on his stupid outburst at the Junkyard. If he hadn't had been so deep in his thoughts, metaphorically pushing away The Party already, maybe today wouldn't be going so shitty.

"Dustin?" Jumping slightly, Dustin dropped his sandwich. His gaze swapped between the discarded sandwich lying limp on his tray and Ben's amused expression, clumsily, his arms still suspended in the air as if still clutching the food. Laughing nervously, he shrugged, his face growing red in embarrassment, a shade he hoped Ben couldn't see.

"You're a weird kid. N-Not in a bad way, though." Dustin couldn't hide the crooked grin that took up his face at the supposed compliment. "Thanks... I think?" He tried as Ben's laughter filled the air around them. Another thing he learned about Ben that day; he had a soft but inconsistent laugh that could only be described as Chicken Pox contagious. Reaching out and grabbing his milk, Dustin fumbled to open it, his lips pursing with determination as he finally ripped it open. Droplets freckled the table around the carton, but Dustin hardly noticed as he threw his head back, downing the beverage.

Dustin wiped his chin with the back of his arm, much like a child, turning and glancing at his new friend. "Y'know, I broke in here-maybe, what-two years ago? And found Phyllis' secret stash of chocolate pudding. A whole truckload, I'm telling you." Ben's eyes widened in surprise, his mouth falling open, cheeks just as round as ever.

"Really?!" Dustin nods, furrowing his brows as he glares into the milk carton. "Yeah, she just hogs the shit, telling everyone that there's none left-" Freezing, he catches himself on the swear. He only just met Ben and he was already getting too comfortable. Dustin made a new friend and he was going to lose them as fast as he made them and the thought left his heart leaping into his throat. Though, glancing over and eyeing the thicker kid, he can tell the cuss did nothing to phase him as he waited for more information, his posture bent to lean towards Dustin.

So he continued, telling Ben a tall tale of sneaking into the sacred freezer of the kitchen, narrowly getting caught by 'the coppers' as he called them and how he stole about two hundred of the Chocolate Puddings. He gestured exaggeratedly as he explained how he went with a crew but came out alone as they had actually been caught and he couldn't do a thing to save them. Ben called him out for leaving them, jokingly calling him a terrible friend, while unbeknownst to him, Dustin took it to heart. Sending a curt glance to his friends and getting caught by Will and Mike.

**11:35 a.m History**

**Ms. Callahan**

Promptly after Lunch, Dustin was forced to run through the halls, tripping over countless misplaced feet, trying to reach Will. Thankfully, he wasn't too slow and actually managed to meet up with Will, the smaller of the two beaming at the sight of his best friend. Tired, and mentally exhausted, Dustin walks sluggishly by Will's side. Today was a day he just wanted to be over and honestly wished would erase itself from history. Besides the meeting of his new friend Ben. Unlike the previous hallway small talk conversation he had with Ben, Dustin didn't feel forced to hide or watch his back, listening to Will's simplified rundown of The Party that day.

By the sounds of it, they weren't too happy with Dustin for bailing on them so much but didn't blame him for any of it. Dustin, however, wholeheartedly blamed himself and felt no one else could possibly take the blame but he obviously kept that inside. Instead, he simply told Will, he didn't feel great about it either and they both voicelessly agreed that was the best anyone could manage that day.

When they had reached the class, the duo sat at their usual table in the back, still buzzing about their days so far and if 'anything new happened'. Dustin went into great detail telling Will about Ben and their outlandish conversation on Chocolate Pudding and Mr. Dennon's terrible sleeping habits. Will seemed to blow up on that section of the conversation, proud of his friend for meeting someone new outside of the Party. He knew Dustin found it hard and genuinely wanted to scream when he saw Dustin talking to the other kid.

Ben was okay. Actually, Ben was more than okay; he was amazing. He didn’t know anything about Dustin and to him, that meant a new slate even if it made no difference to his current overwhelming situation. It made a difference in his mind and to get by that was all he needed. Someone who didn’t know how much of an idiot he could be. That didn’t judge him for the stupid shit that dribbled from his mouth whenever something he didn’t approve of happened. He supposed Twelve could be a new start as well, but he was sure Twelve still thought he was an idiot, either way.

History class that day consisted of a rerun of King Tut and his reign, which the class had already studied the week before. Dustin didn't complain though, as it gave him more time to talk to Will, a kid he found he loved talking to.

"Dustin," Will whispered, catching the curly boy's attention. Smiling, he folded his arms on the table, a low screech echoing in the class as he readjusted his seat.

"I know it makes you uncomfortable, but I think we should talk about _it_ again." He continued, his smile very comforting contrasting to the needles sticking dangerously out of the conversation starter. Shifting uncomfortably, Dustin was unsure on whether to be snarky or to just jump into his current feelings.

"Why, 'cuz we're basically the only two in the Party?" Will's gaze shifted to check on Ms. Callahan briefly before returning to Dustin. Nodding softly, he scratched at his arm.

"If you don't want to, I understand. I just-I dunno-I think it might help ease it." Dustin nodded, understanding. He knew what Will was saying made sense, but on some level, he knew it was bullshit. No matter how much they accepted each other, the world was still very hesitant to people like them. No matter how much the world said they were okay with it, he knew there would always be people out there that would hate them if they were ever open about it. Especially Hawkins of all places; the Homophobic capital of Indiana. And it sickened Dustin, it chilled him to the bone, and sometimes he wished to have been born different.

Oh-ho, the day he told Will his crush on Max was all fake? It was a lot to take in, but Will seemed alright with it. Will donned a smirk, nudging Dustin with his elbow.

"Had any _'observations'_ recently?" Pulling the rim of his hat lower, Dustin glanced over at Will, frowning slightly. "A really weird one, I fucking _hate_ myself for it." He admitted, Will's eyes widening. Leaning down, he quirked his head. He said nothing, but his expression clearly said, _explain_.

"It's about Mike-"

"Oh, shoot," Dustin nodded, dropping his head, dramatically. A muffled I know comes from him, Will's hand rubbing Dustin's back comfortingly. The teacher notices them between taking a question and sipping from her bland thirty-minute old coffee and asks how Dustin is doing. Will simply brushed it off as a bit of sickness from the terrible school lunch, albeit his voice trembling with the lie. “A real bad tuna sandwich,” he tried, Ms. Callahan taking the excuse as truth. It was a really rare occurrence for Ms. Callahan to ignore the two, the duo always finding some way to disturb the class. Whether it be loud laughter from a joke or loud mutual conversation. Once her attention was off them, Will leaned down, still rubbing comforting circles into Dustin's back.

"It's the freckles, right?" Whining softly, Dustin brought his hands up and over his head as if to say, _please don't remind me_. Nodding wisely, Will turned to the front of the class, not necessarily paying attention, but taking to muttering comforting phrases, hoping they helped calm his usually talkative friend. They spent the rest of the class like this, Dustin occasionally whining about that same observation and Will trying to convince him that it was okay.

He tried to convince Dustin but knew inside, he was being a hypocrite. Not even he liked his own observations, completely sure that _none of it_ was okay.

**12:35 p.m**

By the time class ended, Dustin was over it, finally comfortable enough to share his other observations. And who else really caught his eye. For instance, Ben, the boy who he had just met, was a very plain guy but had visibly soft cheeks and eyes that almost resembled stars when he talked about the things he was interested in. Mike, one he had never liked to talk about, had freckles like paint splatter and unbelievable eyelashes. He could probably use them as wings if Dustin was honest. The only bad thing about Mike was his insufferable anger issues.

Dustin and Will wandered out of the room, well after everyone else had, still actively talking about their 'observations' as they liked to call them. It was all for lack of a better term and if used in the right situation, no one thought you weird or gave you strange looks; the best of both worlds. Occasionally, Dustin and Will liked to use their observational skills on each other, jokingly, but it also served as a good way to seek out the good qualities they couldn’t see in themselves. As Dustin had jumped into an animated description of Will, a voice from behind shut him up real quick.

"Really soft hair and pretty eyes? Dustin, I hope for your sake you're talking about a girl." Growing hot in the face, Dustin spun on his heels, smiling stiffly at Lucas's grimace of disgust. Dustin couldn't tell if it was Homophobic disgust or just general disgust, but he knew it hurt. Swallowing heavily, he shrugged, shaking his head.

"Y-Yeah, but it's whatever," He mumbled. Mike seemed to gauge the tenseness of the situation, stepping forward with a smile. Per the usual, El was stuck to his side, her eyes wide and curious as she gazed at the two. Batting Dustin's shoulder, Mike leads the way for them to continue walking, Dustin and Will sharing a knowing glance.

"Hey, Dustin, where's your friend?" Mike asked, vaguely. For Dustin and Mike, it was obvious who he was talking about, the kid Dustin had found the day before. He knew to the other's in the Party, though, that they could be talking about Ben. Or Hamburger Helper as Lucas had so graciously taken to calling him, making Dustin’s blood boil. He looked at everything but his friends as he organized a reply in his mind. He shrugged, sighing a laugh, the action clearly very shaky.

"I dunno-they didn't even know what a school was." Mike eyed Dustin in disbelief before a small grin broke across his face

"Where have they been for 14 years-Living under a rock?" Will sputtered, a small grin spreading across his cheeks at the joke. Dustin stopped by his locker, gazing at Mike as he inputs the code.

“Honestly, he _looked_ like he crawled out from under a rock-And he was scared of literally _everything_ , man.” Will, not entirely sure who the kid in question was, still found himself very engulfed in the little conversation, cocking his head slightly. “Well, did he say where he was from?” That dreaded question. Dustin almost choked, his face hidden within his locker as he plucked out various treats from the inside. As his fingers slipped on a bag of potato chips, his palms clammy with anxiousness, he wished Mike hadn’t radioed him. His bag sat limply at his feet as he dropped each snack into the bag. He tried for a laid back shrug, but from behind, he was sure it looked very stiff.

“N-Nah, actually he was just worried about the cut in his leg. A real gash-it’ll leave a scar, for sure.” Meeting Will’s gaze, he traced out the wound on the back of his own leg, throwing his locker closed. Will and El’s faces seemed to fall into the same looks of worry, their eyes wide with disbelief. Dustin read them as ‘How are they still alive?!’ Though if he was honest, the wound wasn’t as wide as he had depicted it, but their faces were just too priceless. Max voiced their thoughts, her eyebrows furrowed as she took a step forward.

“Dustin, they’re not buried in your backyard, are they?” Dustin snorted.

“No-”

“So their leg is gone. You cut it off, right?” Dustin stared at her in quiet disbelief before shaking his head. “What the fuck, Max-How was I, with my clammy hands and wildly-flailing limbs, supposed to amputate a limb? Steve and I put a huge band-aid on it!” Max’s mouth fell closed, her lips pursed as she crossed her arms across her chest. If Dustin was stupid, he would have seen right through her obvious look of suspicion. And looking between her’s and Lucas’s expression, he was sure neither of them believed him. And despite knowing himself better than anyone, he let the knowledge hurt him.

Why wouldn’t they believe him? They were his best friends. Dustin was prone to exaggerating sometimes, he knew that, his friends knew that, even his mother knew that. Hell, even Steve knew, but after becoming friends with Steve, Dustin’s stories seemed to get more and more extreme. He’d told one once where he’d been chased by a giant dog up and down Mirkwood only to lose it in the woods by climbing a tree. _Climbing a fucking tree_. Dustin can barely throw a dodgeball let alone climb a fucking tree; he had no idea where that story had come from if he was honest.

He was an animated storyteller, yes. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when his stories were brushed off as fiction, though. For Dustin, every story told had some sliver of truth to it. He was chased by a dog up and down Mirkwood. Only it was a Chihuahua. And he was riding his bike. Fortunately, Mike seemed resolute in his knowledge of the kid as he literally had proof of his existence, but other than that, the gash seemed pretty fucking ridiculous. And Dustin knew that, but he couldn’t help himself. Will and El seemed to believe him though if that was any consolation. _And it fucking wasn’t._

Sadly, Lucas didn’t keep his suspicions to himself. “Who did you think was going to believe that shit, Dustin?” Dustin kept his voice level, exerting his annoyance in gripping his bag.

“Believe what you want, Lucas, I don’t give a shit.” Dustin tried to keep his voice level, but in his own ears, he sounded more tired than neutral. Mike’s gaze snapped to Lucas, his lips in a hard line as he cursed the boy non-verbally. He took in a breath, short and sharp, replying to Lucas’s original question.

“ _I_ believe him, Lucas. Isn’t there something else you should be worried about, though?” Lucas’s glare fell on Mike and Dustin felt himself exhale, taking a step back to lean on the lockers behind him. Running a hand through the visible hair, he sent a thankful glance to Will who had decided to move and stand beside him.

“Like what, _Hotwheels_?” Mike visibly swallowed, and Dustin knew he was fighting to contain his aggravation. It only took so much before Mike huffed into an angry rant, his face red from his cheeks to his hairline, footsteps heavy as he paced the area. Mike was like water when he was in a bad mood, Dustin realized. He moved to fill whatever space he was in, whether it be with his voice or his body.

“Like-Shaking hands. You should _apologize_ , Lucas.” Lucas scoffed, his eyes growing five sizes.

“ME?! _I_ should apologize to _him_? Are you fucking mental?” Dustin’s eyes gravitated to Mike’s feet as he realized he was shuffling anxiously. He knew this was where he should jump in, to stop his friends and be the medium they both needed. Glancing at Lucas’s angered expression, though, Dustin felt himself struggling to simply breathe. What retaliation would he receive from even taking a step forward? Before he could contemplate anything, Dustin stood up from the lockers, moving to stand between them, his hands held out as if to stop them. Lucas batted his hand away.

“Don’t fight about it-I’m not ready for the sequel of _Clash of The Assholes_.” Max snorted at Dustin’s half-assed attempt at a joke. Crossing his arms, he turned to Lucas with a sigh. “I’ll shake. I drew first blood, right?” Lucas nodded, his own arms crossed.

“Damn righ-”

“No, _not_ right.” The strong voice that cut Lucas off, came unexpectedly as everyone’s attention turned to Will. Stepping forward, he shook his head. “Dustin did _nothing_ wrong. The first attack came from Lucas when he told Dustin to f-to go away.” Will caught himself before uttering a swear that he’d regret. Swears weren’t really something he loved to use and he hated them whenever the other’s used them. Dustin was sadly excused as he was very eccentric and needed words equally as eccentric to use in his speech. Max shrugged, turning to Will.

“What about the Junkyard incident, Will?” She asked, genuine curiosity dripping from her words. She always saw Will as the best at reading people and situations and at this moment, she hoped Will’s wise words would end this childish bickering. Will’s eyes shifted to land on Dustin’s troubled expression briefly before turning to Max.

“Dustin hasn’t been-well, lately.” Gesturing vaguely, he speaks, looking at each kid’s face. “And on that day, it was the worse it has ever been, y’know?” All but Lucas nod along to the story, Dustin simply watching the ground. He occupies himself with his hat, hoping this would end before the conveniently placed study period ended.

“He _snapped_ at me!” Lucas tried. Will sent him a glare to silence him, his sudden confidence scaring even Dustin.

“Because you _hit_ him while his mind wasn’t in the right place, Lucas.”

Against Dustin’s wishes, the attention turns to him, various looks of worry on his friend’s faces. He really had hoped today would be easy. His stomach flopped and an overwhelming feeling of uneasiness washed over him. He suddenly felt very naked and attacked under their awaiting gazes. Their eyes searching for any sign that Dustin would disprove what Will said. That Dustin would smile and crack a joke proving that since then, he’d gotten better. Replacing the usual love that filled the Party and returning as the loving bard and face of happiness in the group. He’d bring the comic books and the newest games on the Nintendo and everything would return to how it was.

As if nothing had ever happened. But since that day, shit had happened. Martin Brenner was alive, and as if he could possibly be doing anything else, Dustin was surprised that he was still testing on kids. One of the kids ran away and somehow made their way to Hawkins, hiding in his house without his mother knowing. _Mike’s fucking paint splatter freckles that somehow made stupid constellations_. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, Dustin sent a shaky glance to the clock on the wall. Two minutes until the bell. If they could just hold out for two more minutes.

“Dustin,” Shit. Glancing at El, Dustin almost cracked at the painfully sad look she gave him.

“Are you okay-” A sour taste fills Dustin’s mouth as he sends her a smile.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” She frowns, clearly peeved by the lie, taking a step forward. Her hand landed delicately onto his shoulder, his smile faltering. He knew he wouldn’t last long under her intense gaze, guilt already panging around in his mind and stinging his chest. “You sure?” He opens his mouth to answer just as the bell rings. He and Will share a gaze as Dustin sends El a small grin, laughing shakily.

“Y-Yeah..! No, uh...” He slips out of their huddle, walking backwards towards his Musical Theatre class. He could describe El’s expression as fearful as she watched him, her usual sad grimace taking its comfortable place on her face. “I’m fine. Really. I’ll talk to you guys later,” Running off down the hall, he leaves his friends in his wake. Each of them watching as they were left in the dark with their friend’s mental health and the sudden protective nature of their little Will. Lucas turns to Max, his eyebrows furrowed as Mike announced that they should head to class. As usual, he led the crew, Max and Lucas hanging back, still watching where Dustin had just stood.

Eventually, they share a quiet momentary glance, the couple trailing after Mike and the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you think of the length of this? too long? too dragged out? i'm freaking out over it-


	7. A Breach in The Party's Security

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the original version of this chapter didn't have a fight in it or a stubborn Mike which is really out of character so I thought, why not?  
> papa angst, hopper being a good dad, and mike being an ass  
> what else could you possibly need?

Jane tried to never let things bother her ever since her time with Kali. She’d pull on a blank expression, dark brown eyes burning harshly if anyone made the mistake of approaching her group. It was hard, to say the least, but at least no one messed with her friends.

She _tried_ , but being the way she was, it was easy for her to catch onto tension in her group.

Like the obvious tension that hung between her and Mike whenever they were in a room alone. An odd feeling of displacement that forced Jane to drop her brash facade grasping for hope in the darkest parts of her mind. A feeling of displacement that made her suddenly feel very foreign by Mike’s side. Like maybe that wasn’t where she belonged after all. It had been like that for a while, ever since New Years. Something just... Changed between them. They were happy to have each other back in their lives but, Jane never felt the same. The atmosphere wasn’t the same. Sitting in his basement, close but not too close, they’d stare at his small box television. It wasn’t on, but they’d sit idly. Watching. They’d talk after hours of sitting in the dank silence, Mike’s voice light but hiding feeling. Jane could tell. She always understood, but that was just what everyone told her.

A tension like the one between Dustin and Lucas after they had defeated the Mind Flayer. It took Jane quite some time to notice that one, as she couldn’t see Max liking anyone but Mike since that day in the school. She didn’t like the redhead at the time, hated her even if she could be so forward. That was when she realized Dustin growing quieter. Lucas would spend more time with Max, Will was on a short leash made of entirely his mother’s worries, Mike with Jane. Dustin had no one and was certainly upset that Max and Lucas were together.

But that situation also confused Jane because Dustin seemed to get over it very quickly. _Kids are confusing_ , she thought, watching Dustin scowl at Lucas from across Mike’s Basement one night at a Sleepover. Then he started spending more time with Will when they were free.

After the whole deal with Dustin in the hallway, she was sure there were just some things she’d never understand. Like the concept of DnD or the scoff that Max always gave whenever Jane asked about her feelings for Lucas. Following the scoff would be the soft creep of color that filled Max’s cheeks spreading up from her neck. Dustin was one of her best friends and she knew something was wrong. More wrong than normal, she supposed, but wrong nonetheless. And as the human manifestation of protection for the party, it was only right that she protected them from whatever was bothering them. Dustin would never tell her what was wrong, himself.

But there were ways that she could figure it out herself.

So as she walked Mike and Will to the bike racks, she stayed silent, planning out the events of that afternoon in her head. She could tell that her silence made the two boys uncomfortable, she was almost afraid that they could hear her thoughts so she tried her best to deter their worry.

“I’m just thinking.” She had told them with a soft smile.

Seeing Hopper with his truck, waiting for her out in the street always struck her with this immediate feeling of happiness and hopefulness; but it only took her so far until her attention fell again on the limpness she felt in the party. She sent a quick goodbye to Mike before joining Hopper for the ride home. Per the norm, he smiled fondly at her, ruffling the messy curls that she had managed to shove into a couple of low pigtails with his help.

Groceries very clearly sat in the back seat, the seat belts clamped around them. The ride home was sadly filled with more conversation than Jane had any patience for. Hopper glanced at her, taking in her thoughtful expression before his eyes fell again onto the road ahead.

“Something bothering you, kiddo?” His gruff voice asked, quickly. Jane grunted turning to look at him before smiling weakly.

“Just... Homework,” She replied. It wasn’t really a lie, but it did bring attention to the amount of homework she did have and had forgotten to complete. Frowning, she realized she hadn’t even started Mr. Clarke’s project.

Hopper’s chuckles fill the air around them, the window on his side open to allow a cold breeze to blow through on the warm Spring day. Jane tried her best to hide her shiver.

“I know homework can be,” He shrugs gesturing vaguely, the smile on his lips never leaving before turning and glancing down at her. “A little depressing but don’t let it ruin your day, alright? That shi-stuff is pointless, anyway.” He finished with a small shrug. Shifting, his arm fell to hang out of the window, Jane smiling at his attempt to make her feel better. Rolling her eyes, she waved away his words blanking out for the rest of the ride.

Once they reached their little cabin, Jane exited the truck, clutching two paper bags full of Eggos and various other foods that Hopper continuously reminded her that she needed to eat. She hardly saw the need as Eggos seemed like enough sustenance, but she loved Hopper. And he wanted what was best for her, so she choked down an occasional bowl of mac and cheese.

She held the keys telekinetically as even Hopper’s arms were filled with brown bags filled with more food that Jane would never eat. Unlocking the door, she stepped in, removing her shoes by the door and making way for Hopper to step in. She hooked the keys onto one of the hoops of his pants, dropping the groceries to the table. He sent her a glance before grinning, waving her away.

“I got these. I know you have things you want to get done. I’ll call you in for dinner.” Sending him a smile, she was thankful for how understanding he was. Running off, she slid into the room she had claimed as her own, the floor newly polished from their last house project. Next, they’d work on the walls, and getting the place to look more lively. Hopper’s records began to play in the next room, the song flitting through the sound waves and Jane knew that usually entailed his little dance. It was embarrassing and she liked to say she hated it but the thought brought a smile to her lips.

She settled into her bed, her legs crossed under herself as she slowed her breathing. After her time with Kali, Jane had discovered many other things that she could do with her powers. For instance, going to Mike’s house without having to go to Mike’s house. She knew Mike hated it, in fact, she did it to most of her friends and they mostly all hated it. Somehow, Will could always tell when she was there, checking up on him, which always threw her off.

She’d find herself in his room for a brief moment, his small figure sitting at the little desk he always sat at to draw. She’d approach, watching over his shoulder as his pencil glided about on the white sheet of paper. It goes like this for a bit before his voice rings out with a laugh.

“Hi, El.” She was relieved to know he couldn’t see her, but in his own words, “I don’t have to _see_ you. I just know you’re there-It’s kind of a... Feeling.”

But she related a lot to Will having such a connection to the Upside Down, so she grew to accept it. Sometimes, he’d tell her about what he was drawing and other times, they’d just sit in silence. Jane could almost tell you what every inch of Will’s room looked like from memory just from the constant visits. And thankfully, Will never found her creepy for it, he actually seemed impressed.

Closing her eyes, Jane found herself in Dustin’s living room. His mother sat on the far side of the room in her comfy little chair, Tews lounging lazily on her lap. Jane waved slightly, knowing neither could see her, but simply wanted to be polite, after all, she was in their home. Without permission, but that was beside the point. She padded on the carpet, the friction of its texture on her socks, a welcome difference to the beat-up Chuck Taylor’s she always wore.

As she approached Dustin’s door, she frowned as there was a pair of voices. One, she distinctly remembered as Dustin, but another that she found to be quite quiet and hesitant. Another boy, she was sure, at first, she figured it was Ben, but realized Ben was a whole lot more talkative than Dustin was. When they were together, that was.

“Do you know about differences, T? Like, in people?” There’s a soft grunt, but nothing else.

“You can usually point them out. You can give it a try-between you and me, what’s something you notice?” There is a span of silence before the hesitant voice croaks out, “I’m... darker?” Dustin’s laugh echoes off the walls before Jane psychs herself up enough to enter the room. She steps through the door, freezing when she sees the tan boy sitting on the chair by Dustin’s bed. His hair chopped down, a buzzcut, she recalled Lucas calling it. There were obvious bags under his eyes that seemed to be fading slightly. He was dressed in one of Dustin’s old t-shirts, a pair of socks hiding his thin legs from view.

“Twelve, that would be considered racist so just-Don’t say it in public.” Nodding softly, he grimaced. “Why?” Shrugging softly, Dustin pulled one of his legs up onto his bed.

“People can be assholes, sometimes, so they won’t think twice about yelling at you for saying it.” Jane hadn’t even realized she’d begun to cry until a sob fell from her lips, repeating the kid’s name. _Twelve._ As if hearing her cry, his face contorts into some weird mixture of fear and confusion, his head slowly turning to meet Jane’s gaze. Placing a hand over her mouth, Jane went to sob, flashbacks of Papa filling her head. She was spiraling, her attention fading in and out as her breaths grew short. She searched for a wall to fall onto but couldn’t stop herself from collapsing as soon as he called out to her.

“Sister..?”

“ELEVEN!”

Her eyes snap open, to take in Hopper standing in front of her, his face exuding fear as he took in her frightened tear-stained face. In his hand was the Walkie-Talkie that Mike had given her for Christmas. Through it, she can hear Mike calling out in confusion, but nothing felt real. Her gaze fell through him, staring at the wall behind him as she reviewed what she’d just learned. She felt like the stable ground that Hopper had built for her was being ripped out from under her. Suddenly, happiness felt so much farther away than naturally possible.

She sucked in a shaky breath, glancing around her room, her heart hammering in her chest. Her hands drifted weakly to her head as she again sobbed. “Pa... Papa?!” Her hands tightened in her hair, gripping and pulling as Hopper cursed lowly. Turning to the Walkie, he growled out, “Mike, call later-This is a bad time.” He knew the boy could hear Eleven sobbing through the device, but slapped the antenna down to avoid any more voice-cracking yells from his part. He placed it quickly to the side, moving to comfort his daughter, engulfing her in an almost bone-crushing hug.

“Papa-Papa’s coming-he’s coming,” She sobbed, her hands twitching to grab something; anything to re-establish her place in the world. To find the balance she thought she had. Shutting her eyes, she shook violently, the sobs rattling her form and sending tremors through Hopper. She sobbed like her brain was being shredded from the inside. The pain in her words brought tears to his own eyes as he rocked back and forth trying to calm her. Her hands found their way to his arms, clutching them as she chocked out a simple request.

“Don’t-Don’t let him get me-” Shaking his head, Hopper sniffled.

“Never. He’s not gonna get you. You’re alright-I’m right here.”

Even hours later, the trauma of Jane’s breakdown still hung in the air. Hanging over both Hopper and herself like a thick rain cloud as they silently choked down the food that tasted less like meatloaf and more like a lump of clay. Dinner was especially short that night as Jane, for the first time since Hopper had met her, rejected a plate of Hopper's famous _Tripple Decker Eggo Extravaganza_. (Or as Max called it, diabetes on a plate.) The sight only made Jane sick, almost coughing up the food she had just managed to swallow.

But it wasn’t like Hopper blamed her. Just mentioning the food made the stiff taste of bile rise in his throat. He was still very confused about what had caused the sudden hysterical crying. As far he knew, none of her friends had anything to do with that asshole. But his knowledge on those kids was very limited despite coming to them with every suspicious case that ever hit his desk.

Retreating to her room, Jane gripped her Walkie-Talkie, pulling the metal piping up until it could go no further. Swallowing heavily, she stared at her wall of memorabilia.

“Mike?” She called, her voice small and hoarse from her previous sobbing. Thankfully, the boy answered almost immediately, worry clear in his speech.

“El! Are you okay? I heard you crying-” Jane cleared her throat, the area growing scratchy. “I’m okay, Mike. But, I-I’m scared.” Her voice died out at the end, worrying Mike further on the other side of the device. There’s ruffling as he answers again, she can hear the basement steps creaking rhythmically.

“I can come over right now if you need me too.” Shaking her head, She smiled at the gesture.

“No. I’m alright.” More footsteps and a door closing and Jane knows he’s retreated to his room. “Well, if you’re sure...” Jane nods as a span of silence spreads between them. She debates telling him what she’s learned as she releases her hair from their pigtails.

“I saw... Something,” She continued, vaguely. Mike murmured in affirmation, asking her to continue. “A-At Dustin’s.” Mike sighs heavily and she knows he’s not happy. She can feel the scolding coming and mutters along as Mike gives her the usual spiel. _You can’t do that, people have privacy and enjoy having it. You checking in like that is like_ \- At this point, he would stumble over his words, no matter how many times he’d said this same exact monologue to her, pursing his lips looking for his next words. _It’s just really rude, El, an invasion of their privacy. You wouldn’t want someone to do it to you, would you?_ Jane always wanted to say yes to that, just to spite Mike but resisted her urges.

“I know.”

“But you were worried. So I’ll let it go-Just this one time.” Sniffling softly, Jane nodded. “Thanks, Mike.” She spoke like a robot as this was how she replied every time they got into this conversation. Huffing a breath, she recalled all the countless times Mike had said she could only do it one more time before he really got upset. How many more times would he say it before he actually got upset?

“What did you see at his house that made you cry?” He returned, his voice softening. Swallowing, her gaze fell on Dustin’s face in a group picture that Johnathan had taken.

“His friend, T...” She choked on the nickname, refusing to utter his entire name. Mike’s voice seemed to grow excited at the mention of the mystery kid. It made Jane’s stomach flip, a frown falling onto her lips.

“You met him?! His name is T?”

“No. I _saw_ him. Dustin called him T.” Mike grunted, oh-ing silently. Jane imagines him nodding softly before his voice cuts in again. “Is it short for something? Like... Terrence? Or Tyler?” He scoffs and Jane can hear him frown.

“Oh, god, is it Troy? If Dustin is hiding the fact that he’s friends with _Troy Harrington-_ ” Shaking her head, Jane hops up from her bed, replicating what she watches Mike do every time he’s frustrated-Pacing. “No, i-it’s not Troy..!”

“El, are you pacing?” Stopping, Jane glared at the device. She wanted so badly to flick Mike, his attention span shorter than her vocabulary.

“Mike, listen!”

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I just-That’s not one of my... Healthy habits.” _No shit._ Swallowing, Jane decided to take the only route that Mike would understand. She just had to be blunt or else he’d continue to see this kid in the white positive light that she knew he already did. Why else would he be excited to hear his name? Mike saw him as a _potential new friend;_ Which T most certainly was not if Jane had any say in the matter.

“T is short for Twelve.” She grumbled, her feelings dropping from fear to anger. Mike is silent for almost too long before she hears him angrily mumble, “That’s not funny, El.” Shaking her head, she reached up to grab a section of her own hair in disbelief.

“This is not a joke-”

“Where are they? Fucking-Lucas put you up to this, didn’t he? I’m not buying it for a second-”

“I _cried_! Why would I cry for-for a lie? Friends don’t lie!” Jane’s bedroom door creaks open, Hopper peeking his head in. His skin still highlighting green in certain lights. Waving him in, Jane turns to place a hand on her hip.

As Hopper stepped in, he closed the door after himself, settling into her bed. She began to pace the length of the room again, her voice growing to a yell as Mike again accused her and the others of trying to trick him.

“Mike, I’m your friend!” Mike sounded especially pissy with his next comment, it comes out faster than she could take a breath.

“You’re also my girlfriend.” Stopping, Jane frowns. “What?”

“There are no Party rules for _girlfriends_ , El. Maybe-maybe you got in on the joke because... You thought being my girlfriend meant the _Friends Don’t Lie_ rule doesn’t apply to you. Well, you’re wrong.” Jane drew in a breath, using a word she’d always heard Hopper use when people said things that weren’t true.

“Bullshit!”

“ _Hey_!” Hopper’s voice boomed standing up from the bed. Jane turned to glance at him, still avidly listening to Mike ranting in the Walkie Talkie.

“No, this conversation is _bullshit_ -I can’t believe-Why would you-T is short for _Twelve_?! Brenner is dead and the Bad Men are gone.” Jane opened her mouth to speak but was cut off as he continued. “ _You_ of all people should know that! This is the last time we’re talking about this, Jane.” _Jane._ She felt her heart drop at that; Mike never called her by her real name. Jane shifted, her form hopping slightly with anxiety as she tried to catch him before he cut off the connection.

“I’m _not lying_!” No reply. “Mike?” Her voice drops in realization. Turning to Hopper, she frowns, blinking violently as tears begin to pool in her eyes.

“ _Mike!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OTOH, hi, welcome to the end notes  
> i wanted to chuck out some shameless self-promo, i'm writing another story-a modern au, mustin fic- hopefully, it'll be updated at the same pace, but who knows. first chapter is being posted with this new chapter!


	8. T is For Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (( warning; my updating schedule may slow down a bit. it's mostly because i'm trying to get a project off the ground and it's not working a t a l l, so keep that in mind.))  
> either way, have some best friend bonding. *insert okay emoji*

Honestly, Dustin wasn’t sure if Spring really existed in Hawkins with the less than flawless shift from freezing weather to heat waves.

It was about 9 am on a particularly sunny Saturday morning when Dustin found himself on the floor of his Living Room arguing with Twelve over cake flavours. He wasn’t sure when the conversation had fallen on this topic, but he could tell that Twelve enjoyed the spacious layout of the conjoined living area and kitchen over his room. Outside, the wind blew lightly and almost nonexistent as temps began to rise in the quiet town. Thankfully, his mom would be at work for another 5 hours, giving Twelve enough time to stretch his legs.

Steve had checked on the two kids about 3 times in the last 2 days, wondering how the mystery kid was doing. He made sure Twelve ate things other than Dustin’s scraps and pounds of junk food, brought him spare clothes from his younger brother, who he had also failed to mention was Troy “The Asshole” Harrington, himself. He rarely stayed for more than two hours, leaving abruptly after. Dustin figured it was to try and make his drop-ins seem normal and not forced, but if anyone was watching the Henderson household and they didn’t get suspicious on the first checkup, they were obviously idiots.

Reaching over, Dustin pulled the plate of Volcano Chocolate Pudding Cake closer, frowning at the kid who sat quietly a couple feet away. Volcano Chocolate Pudding Cake was exactly what it sounded like, it was chocolate cake filled with chocolate pudding. It had to be filled with enough of the goop that the cake exploded when you pierced a fork into it, but not enough to explode in the oven. It was a specific and very original recipe that Dustin had come up with on his own.

He found that he loved to bake and on occasion would come up with otherwise weird concoctions and feed them to his mother. She, unlike Twelve, really enjoyed the Chocolate monstrosity and always made space for a second slice. Whether it was her just being a mother or actually liking the desert was beyond him, but thankful was he. Sadly, he never had the heart to share with his friends, being that he was a boy and men don’t usually bake. (Right?) But with the situation he was in, he didn’t think he’d ever find a time to show them. From where he stood, it was clear none of them wanted to be around him. With that thought, he wondered if Ben liked cake and if he should save some to bring with him to school.

It was a fairly large cake, enough for 12 people at least.

“This cake is amazing, T, you’re delusional.” Twelve grunted in confusion, frowning at Dustin. Vanilla icing was smeared on his left cheek from the second of the two cakes that Dustin had made. According to him, _“the... Weird brown cake”_ was the loser in the race of regular old Gold Vanilla Cake versus Volcano Chocolate Pudding Cake.

“De-lusion-al..?” Dustin nodded, spooning another forkful of the dairy trap into his mouth. “Yeah, ‘means you’re crazy.” Twelve’s nose wrinkled in distaste as he returned to his second slice of the cake.

“ _You’re_ crazy...” He mumbled. It honestly wasn’t that he hadn’t liked the cake. It was... Good. It was a good-it was an okay cake, it just wasn’t as good as vanilla cake. He liked that so much more and would eat the entire cake if Dustin would let him. Steve, however, made sure to limit them both to only two slices a day. That was if Dustin ever listened, always grabbing a third plate before bed and sharing with Twelve. In his own articulately chosen words, _You don't have to actually listen to him-He's just being a fucking mom_. Twelve still didn’t quite understand how a 19-year-old boy could be a mom, but he also didn’t want to ask too many questions.

Dustin ran a finger along the edge of his plate, collecting the forgotten bits of the cake onto the tip. There was a soft knock at his door as he placed the coated finger into his mouth. Sending a glare to the dining room windows, he was eternally grateful that they bought some curtains to cover them up. Sending Twelve a glance, Dustin motioned for him to hide, only receiving an incredulous look from the smaller boy. They stood for a what felt like hours, voicelessly arguing about where Twelve was supposed to hide before another couple knocks echoed through the house, this time louder.

“Dustin? Dustin, it’s me-Ah, Mike.” There’s a soft sniffle at the door and Dustin jogs to reach it. Squatting down, Twelve took to hiding by the couch. The door swings open and Dustin’s breath hitches at Mike’s very red and very puffy face. Under his eyes were the streaks of fresh, but nearly an hour old tears. Thrown over his shoulder is his school backpack, basically bursting at the zipper. Dustin believed it to be an overnight bag. His hair was a mess, loose strands sticking up in messy curls as he had rushed to get to Dustin’s house.

“Dustin, I think-No. I know I messed up.” He nods, dropping his gaze. He rubs at his nose with the back of his sleeve before continuing.

“You might be busy and all but I-you know, I-I was hoping-” Dustin shook his head before grabbing Mike’s arm.

“Get in here. I gotta show you somethin’ anyway.”

* * *

Mike sat comfortably on the couch, his knee bouncing violently, and his brown eyes trained on the tan boy sitting on the floor. Dustin took to standing between the two to avoid nervously jigging his own leg as Mike clearly depicted (his mother hated it). Twelve was on the floor directly across from Mike, Mike’s gaze faraway and indescribable. He didn’t seem as angry and confused as he had an hour ago, but Dustin couldn’t help but feel like Mike would throw Twelve out of one of the many windows in the house. So he stayed where he was, his gaze never staying on one kid for too long, hands placed anxiously behind his head and continuously readjusting his hat.

The tension in the room was palpable. Or rather, Dustin felt very uncomfortable in the room with the two. Their gazes were steadfast and hardened as they stared at each other, like a game of No Blinking-Hardcore. As far as he knew, neither had blinked at all since Dustin outed the news. Mike’s eyes were saucers when he stepped through the door and saw Twelve cowering by the couch. He couldn’t keep his resolute position of it all being a joke now because he could physically _see_ the kid. He could see the abuse, the malnutrition, and the fear still dancing very clearly in his eyes. As you would expect, he blew up, screaming and freaking out.

**AN HOUR BEFORE**

**11 AM**

Dustin stumbled back from the door as Mike snatched it from his hand, throwing it shut. He jumped to lean against it as if someone would burst through at any moment, glaring at Dustin. His brown eyes bounced between Twelve's obvious look of fear and Dustin's sheepish grin. His hand flies to point at Twelve, his bloodshot eyes holding Dustin's gaze. "Who the _fuck_ is that?" Dustin froze at Mike's choice of words, the harsh slur not really a big word in his dictionary. Clearing his throat, Dustin tries to take a step forward, holding his hands out defensively.

"Now, Mike, I get that you might be a little pissed-" Scoffing, Mike smiled hysterically. "Might be a little pissed?! Dustin," He slams the lock down before moving to stand at the center of the room. "I chewed El out because she said you were hiding some-some _lab rat_ in your _house_!" Mike tried to whisper the insult, but Twelve heard him loud and clear and his expression changed from worry to distaste. Both Dustin and Twelve frowned at the word hanging in the air. Getting no reply, Mike continued, his face red with anger. "How the hell did you find him?!" 

Rolling his eyes, Dustin sighed. "I told you. He was at the school hiding in one of the bathroom stalls," Mike turned his gaze to Twelve, the boy flinching in reply. Turning about-face, Mike paced stiffly, his hands moving to rake his roots.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me-Brenner is supposed to be dead!" Dustin swallowed heavily before moving to cut off Mike's pacing. Grabbing his friend's shoulders, he frowns with his own look of seriousness. "As I said a week ago, Mike, we had no proof of that. We ran away before we could see anything-" Mike shakes off Dustin's hands, moving to take a step back. His feet stumble and he lightly trips into Mrs. Henderson's favorite armchair. Taking a breath, he lets the comfort of the chair engulf him, dropping his face into his hands.

"This is fuc-This is mental, Dustin..." Nodding softly, Dustin meets Twelve's gaze briefly before joining his friend at the armchair. Sitting on the arrest, he waited patiently for Mike to calm down. As if going through a Eureka moment, Mike lifted his gaze, frowning up at Dustin. "This is going to bring Brenner _back_ to Hawkins, _do you realize that_?!" Dustin averts his gaze, nodding softly. He had to admit, Dustin couldn't count how many times the thought had crossed his mind; but sometimes hope got the better of him. And he _hoped_  the old creep wouldn't miss Twelve. After all, who in Hawkins, besides Mike Wheeler, could honestly say they found a strange kid and they just happened to have powers? Or at least, he hoped Twelve had powers.

It's safe to say, the possibility of Twelve being normal never crossed his mind. The graveness of the situation settled with Mike's anger as Twelve finally took a breath in the 10 minutes that Mike was there. The freckled geek's expression contorts as he remembers his fight with Jane. He sighs, leaning over to lean on Dustin.

"I called El a _liar_ ,"

"Holy shit." Nodding, Mike scoffed. "Yeah, _holy shit_. It's 'cuz of you and-and _Twelve_." He mumbled distastefully, gesturing vaguely in the kid's direction. Dustin stands up, remembering that Mike had brought up learning everything from Jane. Crossing his arms, he huffed. "Your girlfriend's been snooping in my business? _Again_?" Mike let his head drop to the armrest where Dustin's form just was, wiping his nose pre-pubescently.

"Well, if your attitude wasn't so bogus, she probably would've left you alone." Dustin's eyes spun 180 in reply to the excuse. Heaving a sigh, Mike continued. "She just... Got curious-I guess." Dustin let the words simmer in his head before he dropped his defensive layer. Pulling on a smile, he gestured to Mike. "Does your mouth hurt after dropping those f-bombs? " Mike laughed halfheartedly before meeting Dustin's gaze.

"Shut up."

**THE PRESENT**

**1 PM**

All placements had changed, Twelve on the floor by the armrest while Mike sat in the center cushion of the couch. Dustin standing between them like a referee. Mike had tried to ask Twelve a couple questions, a slight interrogation as he tried to come to terms with everything. Swallowing heavily, Mike nodded in Twelve’s direction, his gaze falling before returning to his face. Twelve’s expression was almost robotic, stoic, calm, and without change, but his eyes have since hardened when Mike was causing that big fuss before.

“So...Your name’s Twelve, right?” He asks again for almost the tenth time. Twelve, though entirely sure Mike knew that, hesitates before nodding. Mike lets his gaze hit Dustin before turning back to Twelve. “Do you... Have any idea where you came from? Like the state?” Twelve’s nose wrinkled as he took in the question. His eyebrows met at the center of his forehead and his head quirked.

“State?” Mike sighed, memories of talking to El that first week flooding his mind. “Shi-Shoot, I forgot.” Dustin dropped his hands, leading the way to the dining room table. He was stressed and all this explaining made him hungry; it was about time for a good ol’ stress eating session. Pulling his Volcano Chocolate Cake out of the oven, he placed it on the center of the table. Looking up, he eyed Mike and Twelve as they watched him in oblivious silence. Frowning, he gestured to the room he now inhabited.

“Get off your asses! We’re talking in here now, I’m fucking hungry.” He added the last bit at a whisper as Twelve stumbled quickly to his feet. Mike, though reluctant, reached out to keep Twelve from falling, narrowly catching the kid. Since meeting him (officially), Mike had been trying his best to drop the feeling of being watched from every angle. He knew it wasn't possible but he didn’t trust this situation, and he was already in an emotional mood, knowing what he did to Jane but he was not an asshole no matter what Dustin told anyone. Or at least, he was trying to be less of one. The tension hanging over the group of three was also something, he desperately wanted to be rid of.

Twelve quickly found his balance as to not burden Mike any further, nodding in gratitude. Mike returned it with his own curt nod before following Twelve to the dining room. His nose wrinkled just as Twelve’s had when he took in the messy cake on the table. His face flashed from disgust into intrigued confusion as he gestured to the brown mass.

“Dustin, what _is_ that?” Dustin’s face brightened for a moment before falling back into seriousness. He cut himself a slice before pointing the knife at Mike.

“Do you want some?” His voice was level and almost out-of-character, Twelve frowned. Shaking his head, Mike’s mouth quirked into an uneasy smirk.

“Not until I know what it is. You pull that out of a trashcan?”

“ _You pull that out of a_ -Mike, I have standards. I’m not a damn raccoon!” Dustin defended, raising his voice a couple octaves to mock Mike. Mike’s eyes danced with amusement as Dustin glared at him from across the table. His gaze bounced between Twelve and Mike, Twelve even had a small smile, albeit, hiding it behind a sleeved hand, from his little perch in one of the kitchen chairs. Catching up with the loss of tension in the air, Dustin forced himself not to smile, pointing his knife at Mike, threateningly. “Watch it, Mike. I have a weapon.”

Taking a seat at the table, Mike reached out, pulling some of the pudding onto his finger and spooning it into his mouth. Snorting, he glanced at Twelve before turning to Dustin.

“Chocolate pudding? You’re addicted to this stuff.”

“Am not!”

“You so are! Come on-You make a _whole_ cake filled with it? It’s like an _obsession_!” Dustin scoffs, rolling his eyes. With any more force, they would have rolled out of his head. Twelve couldn't hide the small laugh that fell out of his mouth. Dustin's gaze was the only thing that forced him into silence. He dropped his gaze, his smile gone as he picked at the table.

“You think this is funny?" Twelve glanced at Mike before frowning at Dustin. "No," He grumbled. Dustin huffs, now gesturing to Twelve with the knife. "No cake for you-ever.” Gasping, Twelve dropped his hands to the table. “No!” Mike shakes his head at Dustin, pressing his lips into his cheek.

“Oh, come on, 'Tin.” Dustin simply sends Mike a grumpy glance before placing the knife down beside the cake. Grabbing a fork, he settles into his chair across the table. Twelve seemed to have taken the threat seriously as he sat in his chair, hands folded in his lap, a firm pout on his lips. He looked about ready to cry as Mike chuckled. “Dude, come off it. Just give him the cake privileges,” Dustin, cheeks filled with the cake stared at Twelve in silence. Twelve shifted to glance at Dustin through his eyelashes and all at once dropped his head to the table, his hands cradling it, a soft thud echoing in the room.

Mike coughed, choking slightly from the action before sending Dustin a worried glance. Rolling his eyes, Dustin pointed his fork at Twelve.

“He’s a drama queen-” Mike doesn’t seem convinced. Dustin sighs, exaggeratedly. “Fine! You can have your stupid gold vanilla crap,” Twelve’s head comes up almost immediately, a small smile on his face. Tears still pricked the corners of his eyes, but he clenched his little hands into happy little fists. Dustin sending Mike a quiet glare of ‘ _I fucking told you so_ ’.

Eventually, Mike agreed to have a slice of his own, Twelve sending him a secret glance of pity of having to eat the mess. Much to his surprise though, Mike actually liked it and dumped another slice onto his same plate, the white porcelain now hidden under a mess of pudding and collapsing bits of actual cake foundation. Their 5-hour freedom was up almost as soon as Mike had taken his first bite, the sound of gravel under wheels very clear from outside the house. With Mike’s plate in hand, he and Twelve hurried into Dustin’s room, shutting the door. Dustin drew the short end of the stick with this being his house and greeted his mother, running the sleepover by her and receiving permission.

Mike was settled into the thin pull out bed that he had packed, a hand behind his head as he went over the night of his and El’s fight to his group. Who the reason was and why. He tried to avoid admitting that he may have been too hard on her. She lived by the _Friends Don’t Lie_ rule religiously and he had no right to say she was a liar. He also blurted out his feelings on how he felt their relationship was going; a bit stiff. Twelve had no idea what that meant but took it as a bad thing as Dustin apologized to Mike.

On his own bed, he felt very guilty for causing the rift between Mike and his friend. It was never something he meant to cause, but it led him to wonder if he'd cause any more problems by staying in Hawkins. Maybe it was about time to move... He referred to Jane as simply a friend and the two boys weren’t about to correct him or even explain why she was more than just a friend. Maybe some other night, but Mike had just met the kid. He was tired and ready to escape to the dreamscape. His eyes stung, dry and bloodshot. And Twelve’s presence left an awkward heaviness in his gut. Like his stomach was filled with stones.

Or perhaps that was just the after effect of Dustin’s stupid Franken-cake.

Rolling onto his side, Mike sighed. He glanced up at Dustin, frowning softly. “How are you going to tell the others?” Dustin grunted, flipping the page of the X-Men comic book that sat laid out on his bed. It was the newest edition and he had put off reading it until then. His hat was already discarded on his bedside table, his hair thrown up into its bun. He’d received a bit of teasing from Mike but it crashed with the dark-haired boy's sugar high.

“I don’t know.” Shifting, Dustin frowned. “Can’t I just...” Mike quirked an eyebrow.

“Not?”

“Yeah?” Scoffing softly, Mike shook his head. “I don’t think that’s how this works, man.” Twelve was silent listening to the two converse, mentally noting all the words he had never heard before. Dustin sighed throwing the comic closed as he rolled onto his back.

“El’s gonna kill me.” Mike nodded. “Yeah. I mean... She literally had a mental breakdown over it, I heard.” Grimacing, Dustin sent Mike a glance. “Heard from who?”

“Hopper. Who else?”

“Oh. Well.” Shrugging softly, Dustin returned to staring at the ceiling. Thinking it over, Dustin clamped his hands down over his eyes. “This fucking sucks. I'm in deep shit.” Mike lied down on his back, tracing the ceiling with his eyes as well.

“Yeah,”

“With Pap- _Brenner,_ shit-and the Bad Men and hoping she was finally safe for once-What the fuck was I thinking?” Mike cleared his throat, turning his head slightly. Dustin lifted a hand, to offer Mike his partial attention.

“You... Saw a kid who needed help-Like I did." He swallowed, glancing at Twelve's curious eyes peering from over the comforter. "I don’t blame you.” With a scoff, Dustin returned his gaze to the ceiling.

“I bet El does. I bet El wants to break _my_ arm.” Mike chuckled softly remembering the memory before heaving a sigh. They fell into silence, noticing that Twelve had fallen asleep to the sound of their voices. The only light in the room was Dustin’s lamp and the Star Wars night light on the far side of the room. The clock clearly told them that it was way past their bedtime, beeping for the tenth time in that hour. Yawning obnoxiously, Mike tossed his plastic fork at Dustin.

“Shut off the light, let’s go to sleep-” Throwing it back full-force, Dustin huffed, receiving a scared yelp from Mike.

“If you bring those little menaces-"

"Who-"

" _Rats_ , Mike! If you bring 'em and my mom blames me, I will personally kill you myself.” Mike lifted the fork, reaching over and placing it on the bedside table with a laugh. It was a threat, that much was certain, but he didn’t feel all that bad about it, he knew Dustin was only kidding. The room grew dark with the click of the Lamp’s cord and Dustin let out a yawn of his own. They exchange half-assed goodnights before falling asleep, dreams of Chocolate Pudding waterfalls and broken arms filling their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried to do some character reading over the past week. (i could only find some on mike, will, and el but that's beside the point) for the main purpose of help portraying characters. it really put a clear perspective on mike's anger and how to balance it out so it's not too off.  
> so shout out to r/stranger things


	9. T; A Boy of Many Talents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more chicken noodle mom steve for the soul.  
> i skipped a couple things, but that's only for relationship/character building later so don't freak out  
> ** changing schedule to every fortnight. much love

National Spring Cleaning week. The one week of the year where Dustin had no say in the privacy of his room. The one week where his mother kicked him out of the house for seven days just to get the house prepared for the Summer. The one holiday that Dustin hated and couldn’t understand. He was sometimes allowed into the house for hours at a time, for sleep or to grab a couple things, but his mother always rushed him right back out into the world. And he never usually had a problem with it, besides not being allowed in his own house of course, but he never really got mad. Only he never had to hide a, he treads lightly on this nickname, Russian boy in his room. And if that wasn’t the worst, the holiday wasn’t even a big holiday, kids were still forced to go to school. Parents still had to go to work. So while he’s at school, hating every moment, Twelve will be stuck in his room for hours, scared of the running vacuum and the blaring sounds of Elvis Presley. Then eventually, when Mother Henderson gains the courage, she’ll descend into the room and come face to face with a little boy, tan and quiet, who could probably kill her with the just the flick of his wrist.

And what would she do? She wouldn’t flip out, like Mike or Lucas’s mom. She wouldn’t coddle him like Will’s mom or call the cops like Max’s mom. She’d freeze up, her limbs growing cold. Her eyes would be taped open with the fear that the kid would kill her and already had killed her son and cat. She’d try to say something to him but would lose breath. Then...

Thud.

She’d faint and wake up hours later, hoping it was all a dream. Twelve would be gone, running to another town or city to now hide from Ms. Henderson and Mr. Brenner. Dustin would be home by then, just to pick up his overnight bag but freak out, finding his mom sitting on the carpet and Twelve nowhere to be found. He’d blame himself for a couple hours and wallow in self-pity. Blah blah blah, he’d complain to Mike and Mike would probably try to help him turn the whole thing into an adventure. They’d have to brief the others on the missing kid and recruit good ol’ Chief Hopper’s help. Dustin would bring Steve along and Will would be forced to bring Jonathan along with him for protection. They’d spend hours on the road, quiet, tense, searching the roads and forestry for a small tan boy wandering aimlessly. And-

Perhaps, Dustin did need to join that Creative Writing club, he really needed some way to expel all of his heinous ideas.

To avoid this dramatized summary from happening, Dustin woke himself and Twelve hours early for the day ahead. There was only one thing he could do; He had to take the kid to school with him. Now he knew how incredibly stupid it sounded, he told himself the same thing for hours, the night before. There were so many dangers that could befall both of them at that school and the ever-hovering threat of Jane blowing up once she sees him, Twelve, standing in the hall. He’d be introduced to bullies and slow classes with boring teachers. School lunches and Principal Coleman. Dear god, Principal Coleman. How was he going to get Twelve signed up? He’d need a regular name, wouldn’t he?

Dustin had barely slept, each time he closed his eyes, fear filling his chest and forcing him to shoot awake. He was running on fumes and no amount of Pudding or sneaked sips of toxic caffeine could help him. But here he stood, in the center of his room, planning out his and Twelve’s outfits for the week and shoving each ‘fit into the duffel bag beside him. The pile waned down until there were two left; their outfits for that day. Dressing Twelve was a struggle all in itself as the boy continued to shift and fiddle with the clothes. Asking question after question that Dustin’s brain couldn’t possibly answer in his fatigue-drunk state. Twelve ended up wandering around the living room in a large tee tucked into pinroll jeans and drowning in a windbreaker two sizes too big. On his back was Dustin’s old backpack from 6th grade. Stuffed in both of his pockets were small baggies of popcorn and another hanging from his fingers as he snacked by the door.

Eventually, after much complaining, Dustin lead Twelve out of the house, the duffel bag weighing down his body and his school bag hanging from his shoulder. The soft rumble of Steve’s 733i BMW waited on the street to avoid drawing any attention from Mother Hen. Throwing the duffel bag into the back seat, Dustin climbed into the passenger seat. Twelve hummed a greeting to the teen sitting behind the wheel before settling in beside the duffel bag. The vehicle roared to a start as Dustin yawned for the 10th time in the last hour. Sending the kid a quick glance, Steve frowned.

“You sure you don’t want me to just... Hide him in my house?” Dustin met Steve's gaze, shaking his head softly. Fixing his cap, he glanced back at Twelve who had already taken the hat off of his own head. Steve smirked, observing Twelve from the rearview mirror.

“Well...” He shrugs, reaching up to fiddle with the mirror. “At least he looks as normal as someone like him can look.” The car turns around a bend, Steve receiving only a grunt in reply. Dustin was too busy, twisting around in his seat to deal with Twelve to even utter a word. He snatched the hat from the space beside Twelve, placing it back on his head. Twelve’s popcorn filled lips frowned, kicking Dustin’s seat softly. Looking between the two, Steve frowned.

“Are you two seriously fighting over a hat?”

Dustin frowned. “I know someone is gonna say something about T’s _hairless head_.” The hat flew into the front of the car, clattering on the dashboard. The wheels squealed as Steve yanks the steering wheel to combat the swerve that happened as a result. His eyes flicker to the hat then to Dustin as he realizes his arm out and extended to hold Dustin to the seat. They each heave a sigh, Dustin's eyes nearly popping out of his head, as Steve sent a glare to the small boy in the back seat.

Twelve seems completely unfazed, his glare just as strong. Scoffing, Steve turned another bend, placing his parent hand back on the stick shift. Just up the road, he can clearly see the three bikes of the Party riding a couple feet ahead, Max keeping up fairly easily on her skateboard. He shifts to gauge Dustin's reaction but finds that the curly-haired nerd was still fighting with Twelve. Dustin was now kneeling on the seat, his tired glare now completely on Twelve.

Frowning, Steve stared incredulously. "Hey! Sit down, you shit!"

“Put it on!” Twelve mumbled out a stern no.

“I hate it-”

"Dustin! Put your ass in the seat!" Dustin sends Steve a stern glare before returning his attention to Twelve. Steve, now less worried about Dustin basically standing in the car, nearly chokes when he notices the kids just ahead slowing to join them.

“Well, after throwing it, I don’t think it likes you much either-” Steve leaned to shove Dustin, keeping the car aligned with his one arm. Dustin opens his mouth to chew Steve out, but squeaks when he sees Will waving at him. Reaching across the dashboard, he snatches the hat, placing it on Twelve’s head just in time. Will rode beside Mike on Dustin’s side of the car, Lucas and Max on Steve’s. The windows roll down and the friends were all smiles. _Including Lucas himself_. Frowning in confusion, Dustin shifted to sit in the car correctly.

“Mike,” Twelve’s voice mumbled. Will sent the duo a smile, Mike waving softly, trying to hide his knowledge of Twelve in the car. Lucas leaned to wave at Dustin, the curly boy’s face contorting further. He was almost too drunk on lack of sleep to manage a snarky reaction.

“Why the hell-so, what, we're on _talking terms_ now?” He complained, quirking an eyebrow. Will hummed in amusement as Lucas spoke up, a smug smile on his face. “Well, Mike told me how sad you’ve been without me so I-” Dustin scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. His gaze now sat on the horizon, watching for the school.

“ _Gag me_. That is total bullshit.” The group laughed as the school came into view over the horizon. Dustin shifted, meeting Will’s gaze, remembering what he'd wanted to ask him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Will only shook his head with a smile.

“Don’t worry, I already told my mom you were coming over.” Dustin sighed. “My mom doesn’t really care for the whole ‘Spring Cleaning Week’ deal so she’s happy to have you over!” Nodding thankfully, Dustin feels himself stiffen as the group splits. When had the school gotten so close? Steve’s car enters the parking lot, carefully, the rumbling dying down as he turned the key. He and Dustin sit in quiet for a moment, letting Twelve take in the appearance of the school. His eyes were wide as he took in the large accumulation of kids entering the building all laughing and chattering.

It was a warm enough day, the air crisp with the occasional breeze that drifted by on the wind. It reminded kids to bring a light sweater and made sure parents knew about the coming hot Summer days. The brightly colored leaves at the tops of the trees swayed with each breeze. It reminded Dustin of the stray apple tree that he had found on the courtyard one day, the apple's green; not quite ready for picking. Bordering the sidewalks that went around the parking lot was the occasional square patch of grass, daisies and lilacs freckling the constant green in shades of white and purple. It was a beautiful day, wasted by Dustin’s lack of energy and the dread that filled his stomach at knowing his bringing Twelve to school was a bad idea. In his defense though, Mike did want him to stop hiding the kid.

To introduce him to the Party because at some point, Jane would do it herself.

Turning his head, Dustin glared out the window at his friends, waiting patiently by the bike rack. Max had her skateboard clutched in her arms, leaning nonchalantly on Lucas as Jane joined the group. It’d seem that she and Mike had gotten over their fight as she smiled at him, stopping beside Will. His throat grew dry as he dropped his gaze to his hands. He can hear the wind of the hat again flying in from the back seat and Steve grunting in annoyance.

“Listen. T, Twelve, Buddy. Put the hat back on." Steve's gaze is authoritative through the rearview. Twelve's frown deepens. "For me. We don’t want anyone to be an asshole, right?” Twelve grunts softly, his resolute stance lost.

“No assholes.” Steve nods proudly, turning to smile at the tan boy.

“Right! And if they still pick on you, deck 'em-”

"No," Dustin shook his head slowly for emphasis. "No _decking_ anyone. We're going through today nice and easy, no bullshit." Steve rolled his eyes playfully as the roles were switched. Dustin sent Steve a glare as if to make sure that was the end of it. Steve grinned in reply, Dustin throwing open the car door. “Deck 'em,” It's a soft whisper as he nods at Twelve. Steve reaches into the back, pretending to punch someone before opening Twelve’s door. Though still very overwhelmed by everything around him, Twelve nods with a shaky smile. Pulling the hat onto his head, he slips out of the vehicle. Dustin's hand shuts both car doors as Twelve fixes his bag onto his shoulders. They moved to the passenger side window, Dustin leaning on the car while Twelve stood idly a few inches behind him. Steve pulled on his best innocent smile as he looked between the two.

“Behave and have fun.” Twelve nodded, fidgeting nervously. “Oh! And don’t cause a scene.” Dustin then nodded. “Bye, Mom Steve.” Twelve chirped, waving Steve off as the car pulled away. Dustin elbowed Twelve, frowning softly as they turned to walk towards the bike rack.

“Stop calling him Mom, you’re feeding his already Texas-sized ego.” Twelve nodded obediently at first, then grunted in confusion. He grimaced.

“What’s an ego?” Dustin stared at him in tired silence before sighing. “Nevermind, I forgot.” Twelve quirked his head as he remembered hearing Mike say that as well just a couple days before. He wasn’t sure how or what they were forgetting, but he figured it was more of the phrases he wouldn’t understand. Pulling open his original bag of popcorn, he stuffed a couple into his mouth. There’s rushed footsteps coming towards them as Dustin turns to the path ahead of them. He stalls when Mike reaches them, a hurried look of worry on the dungeon master's face. He looks between Twelve and Dustin before spouting the point of his approach in messy stutters.

“Dude-What is-Why is he here?!” Dustin follows Mike’s hand to Twelve, the boy returning to his baggie of popcorn. It was fair to say he really really loved popcorn. Especially the buttered kind. Shrugging, Dustin turned back to Mike with a yawn.

“I couldn’t-” He sighs after the yawn, whooping softly. “If I left him home, my mom would’ve found him. _Spring cleaning_? My mom goes completely mental for 168 hours?” Mike brought a hand to his forehead, punishing himself for forgetting something that they had just talked about. He even let Dustin breeze by on knowing how many hours were in a week, the anxiety of having Twelve around at school replacing the mocking jokes he felt building up in his chest. Heaving a frustrated breath, he stuffed his hands into his pockets, spinning on his heels. He had to take it lightly. Act like it was the most normal thing, having a new kid randomly join them for a week. Leading the two towards the bike rack, Mike steadied his breathing. The trio noted the various looks of interest or confusion dancing across the features of the party. Mike sent Dustin a glance just as they had reached the bike rack, whispering, “I hope you know what you’re doing,” The group approaches slowly, meeting them halfway. Jane stares at T, distaste burning within her brown eyes, but she hides it behind a look of false calm.

Mike took a breath, holding out his hand to address T, halting when his gaze fell on Will. Will seemed to be in awe, a soft look of surprise on his face, exemplified by his mouth, hung agape in a subtle ‘O’. Confusion wrinkled Mike’s nose as he turned enough to watch Twelve and Will. Twelve seemed to have dropped all emotion, all business on his expression. Will takes a hesitant step forward, his mouth curling into a wary grin.

“Have we met before..?” Twelve nodded, matter-of-factly.

“Upside Down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts? reflections on the chapter?  
> 


	10. T; A Boy of Many Talents II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the official meeting of T and the Party. we learn whether or not it was a bad idea.
> 
> || chapter 10! our first milestone. thank you all for the kudos and comments!

Perhaps they were a bit harsh to assume that Dustin looking for other kids like Eleven was... _Completely_ improbable. Less maybe, more absolutely. Keeping this a secret had to be more stressful for him than the supposed job of trying to keep _him_ under control. It was why he was acting so oddly... Right? Besides everything else he had going on in his life, of course. Dustin was a boy built up on internal conflicts and Will was lucky enough to even know about a couple of them. And sometimes, he lets himself feel glad they're friends. Despite being scared and having so many things that made the Bard different, Will looked up to him, in a way. Though, he looked up to almost all of his friends; his favorite idiots on Earth.

He's glad to be back. In this dimension, that is.

Being stuck helplessly in the Upside Down was a crippling experience for him. The cold chills that never left, the eerily quiet moments that went on for-damn-near-ever. Moments so silent, he could hear his own heartbeat pounding against his chest, the soft sound of his teeth chattering. The air too toxic to even breathe shallowly. He could feel the effects of the air long before he had lost hope. Sometimes after the long periods of time, of stillness and walking, he’d hear the call of the monsters in the distance. Never too close, but fear would throw Will’s emotions into overdrive. He’d run, without break to the nearest hideaway and he’d always end up back home. He never strayed too far from home.

He could almost recall each moment in the Upside Down vividly though, selective amnesia had become his friend in the months after the incident. He’d forget most of what happened besides being saved by Hopper and his mom. What he could remember, he wrote in a small notebook he kept in a shoebox in his closet. And what he learned from his friends he added to the timeline, just trying to put together what happened during those days where night never ended.

And nighttime is only ever good for sleep.

There were always parts of his memories that he never could piece together, but he'd never admit to. Memories that may very well be his own imagination. Nancy being in the Upside Down, specifically, but also a strange kid who was there but very transparent. And wispy. As if stuck between two dimensions. He was exactly how Mike had described Jane, but completely different. Will could remember the moment they met no matter how he's feeling. He was running away from the Demogorgon again (when wasn't he?). There was a pretty big distance between them, that got cut drastically short by Will stumbling over an especially large root. The Demogorgon approached, face opened and ready to ultimately _devour_ Will when the kid ran into the area out of nowhere. He looked more surprised to see Will than Will was to see him. The Demogorgon turned to attention, noticing him too, but it seemed... Agitated? Like they had met before only Will had never seen that kid before and he's been running from the monster for a week! Without a word, the kid threw a rock at the towering beast, spinning on his heels and running off into the woods. Will took it as a heaven-sent miracle and took this chance to jet.

In the scenario he had gone over in his mind, the kid died. Sometimes, when the memory would play, Will would be overcome with guilt and he'd spend hours in his room staring at his wall. It was probably an off guess, but he believed that kid genuinely wanted to help him and didn't have a death wish. And he let him die in there.

Only he wasn’t dead. He was standing right here, chewing on popcorn and acting as if everything that happened was so...

Normal.

Will could tell the kid was happy he was alive, a smile passing over his features but leaving as soon as it was there. In some odd way, _his own way_ , he was glad; but his cautious almost cold reactions to certain things made him a hard card to read. And Will prided himself on being able to read any card. Er, person. He wanted more time to figure him out, to get to know the kid that Dustin had struggled to hide for so long; but before he could do anything the bell rang and he was dragged off to Science, his wrists gripped by Lucas and Mike respectively. He didn’t question anything, though he wanted to. It was the nagging feeling at the back of his head that reminded him that they were uncomfortable (Lucas, more so than Mike) by the fact that he knew that kid before any of them. That knowledge would disturb him as well if he was in their shoes.

He understood and he tried to be the face of calm for the group, but his eagerness for answers badgered his mind with each passing second. His leg bounced and his fingers tapped to the beat of the clock's ticks. Teacher's lectures turned into the annoying grumble that adults in Charlie Brown made and he struggled through each class. The notes scrawled into his notebook made less sense than the lesson itself and the questions he had running through his mind, littered the pages. This was bad. He knew it was bad, but he got a bit impulsive sometimes when it came to 'curiosity' and people. He was going to lose so many points on assignments due at the end of the week, but after he figured out what made Dustin’s friend tick, he could rest. Or stay after school for help, whatever came first.

The final bell before Lunch rang and Will shot up from his seat, the aggressive screech from his chair startling Mr. Dennon awake from his nap. Other kids in the class had also turned to look at the oddly energetic Mushroom that hurried to collect his things. His friends all shot him weird looks, gaining a specific glare from Lucas, but he weaved straight for Dustin. As figured, the kid in question was with him, participating in a one-sided conversation with... Bill? No...

Ben. That was his name.

Will and Dustin shared a glance, the thicker of the two turning to address his friends. His tired but genuine smile replicated on both Ben’s and the kid's face. Ben asked about lunch and Dustin rescheduled, apologizing politely. Once Ben had left, Will moved to walk by the unknown kid, as they made their way to the AV Room.

“Will, would you _seriously_ chill out? You’re gonna make our rep even worse.” Lucas complained, shutting the door after everyone had entered. Will gave him a sheepish smile, placing his bag down in the corner. “Whaddya mean?” His voice questioned, tentatively. Looking around, he was aware of the odd looks coming from everyone. _Including_ the new kid. To recreate what he had done all throughout the day, Lucas took a seat at the table. His legs bounced exaggeratedly, his head snapping about and checking his wrist as if looking at a watch. Dustin chuckles lightly at the act but Will could only flush, huffing a breath.

“I’m sorry, I just-” He gestures to the kid standing idly by the door, popcorn crunching with each bite.

“I wanted to know more about him, y’know? Like, his name?” He turns to Dustin, folding his arms loosely. Dustin’s small grin falls as everyone’s gaze falls on him. Frowning, he gestures to Mike.

“He knows his name, too!” Mike scoffed. “He’s not my responsibility.”

“He became your responsibility when you came to my house all _mopey._ And all, _‘Oh, Dustin, I think I messed up_ -”

“Shut up!” He swatted Dustin’s arm, in frustration. Dustin batted him back, his eyebrows knitting in annoyance. “You shut up!” Mike opened his mouth to retort but stopped short when a chair squeaked along the ground. Looking up, Twelve is now sitting in the chair just across from Lucas. It wasn’t too confident of a movement as after sitting, he moved it away from the table to leave distance between himself and the new faces. There were too many energies. Too many auras lapping like waves and threatening to overtake others’, he almost felt suffocated. His only manner of making himself feel less overwhelmed was to take a seat and try to _nonchalantly_ hide in the corner.

Or as nonchalant as possible, he supposed. He was visibly uncomfortable, but Lucas still seemed deterred by his move. Eyeing him in suspicion and leaning back in his chair, he also tried to be nonchalant, coughing softly. Turning to look at Will, the kid picked at his popcorn bag, uneasily. His fingers danced along the outer rim of the plastic bag. For a moment he was looking at the air above Will’s head before their eyes met again.

“Twelve.” The room grows quiet to take in the new information, each kid looking at the other. So they were wrong. There were more, but just how many more? Jane avoids anyone else’s gaze, her own stuck on Twelve.

Somewhere deep down, his darting eyes and hunched form caused Jane’s gut to clench and left an overhanging cloud of discomfort over her. Her pity for him was almost debilitating. _Almost_. They had a lot in common, she knew that. And the fear and hatred between them towards Dr. Brenner had to be at about the same strength. Or rather she hoped it was; it was too early to say. She couldn’t stand that man. And sadly, that extended to anyone who’d had direct contact with him.

Including herself, sometimes. She shifts, clearing her throat, but refusing to openly share how she felt about the whole situation. Max shrugged, perking up to break the silence.

“Well. Was that so hard?” She jested, sending Mike and Dustin a pointed glance. The two drop their gazes as Will returns his attention to the kid.

“I’m Will.” Twelve waves softly in reply before pointing weakly at Lucas and Max. Making a soft sound of realization, he nods with a smile. “That’s Lucas,” He points in accordance. “And Max.” Will turns to introduce Jane, but Twelve speaks first, addressing her directly.

“I saw you.” He mumbled. His gaze travels as well to the area around her head and she almost let her face fall into a grimace. She knew full well what he was referring to and detested him for bringing it up. She nibbled at her lower lip as _The Party’s_ gazes all fell on her. They could know, the two of them, of that one moment, but she wasn’t about to out it to everyone around her. She took in each of their expressions before turning to him, her face blank.

“No.” Twelve only nods. “There but, not there.” She swears inaudibly. Dustin then snaps, the sound causing many of the kids to jump. His arm receives another swat from Mike as he turns to Twelve, hands placed on the table for balance.

“You mean that one night when you said 'sister'.”

“Yes.” Jane, showing the first ounce of emotion that whole day, frowned. Her eyes narrowed, drilling angry holes through Twelve.

“ _No_.” Mike turns to take in Jane’s tense form, a frown forming on his own face. Reaching out, he placed a hand on her shoulder. Her angered gaze turned to him, his form flinching a bit in reply. He takes a breath, his eyes trained on her’s. Sighing, she drops her arms, copying the breath he took. She was still obviously very angry, her jaw tight and eyes still burning, but she seemed calm enough to have a normal conversation. Before anyone could say anything, there was a shift in the air.

It loses tenseness around them, the kids turning to look at each other in confusion. Silence falls over the group and they take in the new aura that reminded them of sleepovers at Mike’s. Of days spent sitting by the Quarry just talking for hours and hours about nothing and everything, all the same. The soft brushes of wind that blew hard enough to shift the grass and sway the trees, but barely managed to tangle their hair. A serenity that reminded them of home. Of the slow dances at the Snow Ball. Not the moments spent, but the feelings it left. And for some, the feelings weren’t all that great.

Will specifically, finds his gaze traveling to Dustin and Mike. His attention swapped between both of them deliberately, as if he was making a choice. When his gaze stops, it lands on Dustin and a smile takes up his face. “Dustin, you remember the Snow Ball? When I asked you to dance and you said no?” Dustin nodded, hesitantly, his face visibly changing shades. Will snorts.

“Well, yeah, ‘cuz I thought you were kidding!” He frowned, speaking defensively. Will nodded with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But then we danced anyway!” Will grins, making a small explosion with his hands.

“Highlight of the night-or whatever-right?” Dustin rolled his eyes, Max was the only one to notice Mike’s obvious change in demeanor at the mention of the dance. He watched Dustin and Will, oddly. His expression was unreadable, she thought she could see a bit of confusion somewhere in his eyes with shifts of what she wanted to believe wasn't jealousy. Sadly though, she wasn’t stupid and never would be. All of her nerds were open books, but she wasn’t an asshole. So when he caught her watching him, she shook her head, mouthing _‘Don’t worry.’_

Lucas decided to speak up, an odd smile on his face. “So I _wasn’t_ the only one who felt that?” Max laughs, her red hair shifting as she shook her head.

“Uh, no.”

“How do you _imagine_ something like that happens?” Dustin questioned, wrinkling his nose.

The room burst into a chorus of laughter and playful bickering.

All except Jane. Glancing at Twelve, she catches him as he drops his sleeve from his nose. He’s addressed by Dustin, pulling him into the conversation and a playful frown dropped the corners of his lips. She knew there were powers other than her own and Kali’s and a lot of the time, that excited her. In the sense that the others weren’t exactly like her. That they were all still very different despite coming from the same background and there were other things that they could do with their minds. For instance, changing the mood of a situation. So despite wanting to ‘throw Twelve across the globe’, as she’d heard Dustin say about Lucas one time, Jane also wanted to know more about him, his power, and about what other things it could do.

The want led her to approach the table, grabbing the attention of her friends. To gesture to Twelve and demand the chance to talk to him alone. The others made him uncomfortable, anyone could point that out and she wasn’t sure how much Dustin knew about Twelve and his powers. She felt that, just maybe, her presence would offer him enough comfort to talk about Papa and the strange effect he just had on the group’s mood; but that didn’t stop the group from giving her weird almost worried glances. Dustin mumbled something about it not being a good idea, Lucas grunting in agreement.

This she actually grimaced at. He was _her_ brother, why couldn’t she talk to him alone? She was aware of how bratty it sounded, so refrained from saying it aloud, but she did vocalize their relation.

“I want to talk to-” She cleared her throat, choking on the label. “-my brother.” She pressed, her gaze strong as she stared at Dustin. Max tried to gauge how Twelve felt about the whole thing, but his face was just as blank as it always was as he finished up his first baggie of Popcorn. Lucas turned to Dustin as the science nerd shook his head.

“I just don’t trust it.” Jane shifted to mirror Dustin’s posture, her hands planted stiffly on the table.

“Why?” She questioned, her expression shifting into soft annoyance. Shrugging softly, Dustin met her gaze. “I dunno-You just-”

Jane’s frown deepens. “You seem so hostile towards him! Like, how-”

He shakes his head, gesturing to the room. “How do we know you two won’t end up blowing up the AV Room?” The situation didn’t call for it, but there was a snort from _someone_.

“I _just_ want to talk.” Dustin’s nose wrinkles in confusion. “What do you have to say that can’t be said in front of us?” Everyone’s gaze again turns to Jane and she briefly cursed the ground Dustin stood on. Before internally apologizing to him. Rolling her hands into fists, she kept her gaze strong on him. He visibly shifted.

“I can't say. Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Dustin!” She called, folding her arms across her chest. Dustin stands up to replicate her pose, quirking an eyebrow. “Jane.” An angry breath exits her nose and Max feels like she’s the one offending the fuming brunette, Jane's anger pulsing like fire around her. She hoped she wasn’t the only one who felt it just as she caught Will’s gaze. He was frowning, fiddling nervously with a pencil. _Thank god_. Clearing his throat, Mike moved to stand somewhat close to Twelve, still not entirely sure where their relationship stood.

Twelve crumpled up the plastic baggy of his popcorn, freezing when he noticed Mike’s shadow. He stuffed the bag into his backpack before looking up at Mike, brow furrowed with confusion. Nodding, Mike turned to the kids watching him.

“I think... We should let Twelve decide.” Dustin’s eyes widen as he shouts an incredulous ‘WHAT?’ A small but confident smirk took Jane’s face as she watched Mike.

“Well, Twelve should be able to decide whether or not he wants to talk to her.” Mike defends, shaking his head. Dustin moves to stand across from Mike, crossing his arms.

“No.” Mike scoffs.

“ _No_?” Will frowns, twisting around to look at Dustin. “Why not?” The pencil still dances between his index finger and thumb, catching the attention of Twelve.

“Twelve is naive-” Mike rolls his eyes. “-and I just don’t think he’s strong enough to talk to El _alone_.” Lucas frowns, shaking his head. “You should be talking about someone being naive.” Dustin nearly gives himself whiplash with the force of his attention turning to Lucas.

“Have something to admit, _Luke_?” Lucas's shoulder's tensed as his tease was thrown back at him. Scoffing, he frowned.

“No-”

“Okay, then.” Lucas runs over what had just happened, not sure whether to be amused or insulted. Shaking his head, his eyes narrowed as he whispered, 'What?' Twelve’s chair squeaks as he stands, causing the room to again fall silent. He moves to get away from Mike and Dustin’s clashing energies, his form rigid. He stands facing the wall for a moment before spinning on his heels. Taking a step toward Dustin, he frowns.

“I want to talk.” Mike nods, knowingly, Will smiling approvingly. A sigh of relief somewhere. Shaking his head, Dustin huffs. “Are you sure? Maybe you’re confused or-” Twelve shakes his head.

“No. I want.” He nods. “To talk.” Dustin feels himself being dragged to the door, at a loss for words. Shaking his head, he grabs the door frame. “O-Okay, but what if you _do_ get confused-” Before Twelve can assure that he’ll be fine, someone else does. It sounds a lot like Max. Dustin’s form disappears from the door and only Mike, Jane, and Twelve remain. Mike turns to Jane, smiling softly and quirked his head.

“Do you remember what we talked about?” Jane opens her mouth to answer, her expression turning to one of confusion. Shaking his head, Mike continues, his expression falling blank. “Not that. _Not yet_.”

There are audible grunts of confusion from Lucas and Dustin in the hall before he tries again. “Ah-About Twelve.” She wanted so dearly to say no, the word dancing on the tip of her tongue, but her body fought and her head bobbed in affirmation. Mike’s smile returns and Jane can’t help but return it, albeit wearily. Their voices chime together as she relays the information he had given her.

“Papa being alive is not Twelve’s fault.” Jane grunts. "I know." Nodding, Mike smiled tentatively. Turning to Twelve, he waves hesitantly before taking his leave. The door shuts before Jane mumbles the last part. _We're both victims_.

Twelve and Jane stand in silence, neither looking at the other. It wasn’t too tense, the light of the lamp still brightening the room. The air light with only the soft sounds of their breaths. Jane was more trying to psych herself up before saying anything. Though she knew she could be very persuasive, she hadn’t thought she’d actually get this far. She hadn’t thought Twelve would actually _want_ to talk to her. She turns slowly, just as he had, their gazes meeting.

He smiles. She doesn’t. She’s not sure if she should. Clearing her throat, she opens her mouth to speak just as the bell rings. “Damnit!” She grumbled in distaste, staring at the door. Out of her peripheral, she can see Twelve jump at the sound, still not quite used to it. Just as she thought, the door opened, Will peering in. Each head of their friends peaked from over him, wondering if anything destructive had happened in the short five minutes.

It was quiet. Bonedry. How could anything happen? Jane shook her head, frustration clear in her brown eyes. “Oh,” Will nods. “Well, we gotta head to class now.”

“We’re coming.” Will accepts the curt reply, shutting the door. The sound of another plastic baggie echoes off the walls on the inside while outside Jane can still hear the badgering noise of kids heading to their classes. Adding to the noise, was her stomach grumbling almost too loudly. Every noise seemed to echo obnoxiously as she waited. Maybe it was regret; but how could she regret what she hadn’t done yet?

Across the room, Twelve was very confused and rightfully so. Were they going to class?

The clatter of messy footfalls and loud chattering slowly dies away and the late bell rings. Moving for the first time in the last three minutes, Jane steps to the door. She grabs the knob, turning and glancing at Twelve.

“Let’s go.” Twelve runs to follow her out of the room, his bag dragging along the tiled floors. His footsteps fall aligned with her’s as she leads him down the hall in the _opposite_ direction of the class Dustin had indicated. He pretended not to notice Jane sidestep to widen the gap between them as they approached one of the many school exits. Twelve throws his bag over his shoulder, looking at her hesitantly.

“No... Class?” She shakes her head. “We need to talk.”

“Oh. Talk.”

And their forms disappear out the double doors, breaking into sprints as they weaved across the field for the woods.


	11. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the talk. 
> 
> || [dialogue heavy, i think] i wrote this entire chapter in the span of 2 hours and i have no idea what happened. i was wired at 3 am, someone send help

Having walked from his father’s lab to the strange town called Hawkins, Twelve had no right to complain over the walking distance. That didn’t keep him from doing it though. Maybe sitting around in Dustin’s house made him soft. Maybe he was being spoiled, was that the word?

After leaving the school, Jane led Twelve into the forest, it wasn’t a part he recognized, but the cover from the tall trees provided Twelve with some comfort. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the girl leading him off into dense forestry with no obvious destination in sight. He’d already tripped over three different kinds of tree roots and it was getting hard to hide the frustration he was feeling. It was like a constant reminder of the discomfort and blinding fear he felt while running away from the lab. He wanted to talk to Jane though. Maybe it would help him learn more than how to hide and what cakes were better than others.

Jane stepped carefully over a large enough stone, Twelve grunting behind her, audibly tripping over it. She shook her head with a quiet sigh, but said nothing, leading him east towards an area that became her second favorite place in Hawkins. It was a large clearing she had found while hiding from the Bad Men. She felt more at home there than she had in a lot of places, including Mike’s Basement. Sending a glance to the boy behind her, she made sure he was still following before returning her gaze to the ground underneath her feet.

She’d spent this entire walk thinking about what their ‘talk’ would be like and where it would go. Whether he’d trust her or if he even hated Brenner. She didn’t have high hopes on the latter topic, but he seemed malleable enough. She was the same way when she first got out, so she knew she shouldn’t push too hard. She also knew the only reason she trusted Mike so quickly was because of the immediate kindness he showed her. To show the same to Twelve would simply be the right thing. Grunting in thought, she stepped around a tree stump, sending the boy behind her a pointed glance. He avoided the first obstacle in the duration of their hiking. Her nod had the slightest ounce of pride in his achievement, taking the final steps into the clearing.

Twelve takes his time reaching her, humming a song that Jane couldn’t quite remember the name for. Once he made it into the sunlight of the area, he stumbled in surprise. Staring around in awe, a soft gasp escaped his lips. Jane was quick to continue walking, settling into an abandoned camping area at the center. There were four old logs placed around a long dead fire. In the distance was a folded tent, left to decay in the Earth. Twelve avoided over staying his welcome by sitting on the log directly across from Jane.

The trees grew in a wide circle around the camping area, bending and fighting to drink the sunlight. There was a clear window to the sky above, displaying the clear blue of the sky above.  
Stray wispy clouds drifted by, but never obstructed the view. Around them, the grass grew wildly and reached just underneath their knees, but a smattering of various flowers kept them from imagining the worst. In fact, the grass looked very comfortable.

Jane gave the boy another moment to take in the view before her stomach grumbled, the sound echoing in her ears. Placing a hesitant hand on her abdomen, she sighed. Now she really regretted not sneaking a couple Eggo’s before school. Looking up, she met the hesitant gaze of Twelve.

“Hungry?” He questioned, lightly. Deciding to play it off, Jane shook her head, folding her hands on her lap. His gaze is strong on her face before he reaches into his pocket, grabbing one of his extra popcorn bags. With a kind nod, he held it out to her. “Here. Not much, but...” Jane sighs through her nose, her lips twitching into a grateful smile.

“Thank you.” Holding out a hand, the plastic baggie drifted out of Twelve grasp and landed on her palm. She waited not a second more, opening the bag and throwing a couple into her mouth. After she had eaten enough to keep her stomach quiet for a while, she motioned for Twelve to join her on the log she sat on. It made more sense for such a serious conversation to be engaged from a closer distance.

Jane’s head bobbed in a curt nod once he settled in beside her, his backpack placed on the ground by his feet. Shifting, Jane pulls her leg onto the log between them again folding her hands.

“Do you have any... Questions?” Twelve nodded without a second thought. Nodding, Jane motioned for him to speak.

“You ran away?” He started, tentatively. Jane grunted. “I needed to be free from the Bad Men.”

“Papa is a Bad Man?” Jane was sure it was supposed to be a statement, but halfway out of his mouth, the tone changed to uncertainty. Her mouth falls into a firm frown as she nods slowly.

“Papa is very bad.” Twelve turns his gaze to the rotted wood tepee sitting in front of him. Jane leaned to meet his gaze. “It is good you got away.” To this, Twelve nods. After another moment, Jane quirks her head.

“Do you understand that Papa is a Bad Man?”

“Kinda... I saw his aura.” Jane grunted in confusion, her face contorting. “His aura?” Nodding, Twelve turned back to attention. She noted that his gaze flew to the area around her head again and concluded that it was something that no one else could see.

“Do I have an ‘aura’?” Twelve nodded, his expression lightening. “What does it look like?” A smile spreads across Twelve’s face as he reaches out to gesture to Jane’s left side.

“Bright red for passion.” His hand drifts to halo the top of her head, Jane watching curiously. He stalls, his eyes narrowing before reaching higher. “White, spiritual openness.” His hand returns to its original position just above her head. “Orange... Friends are important.” His attention dips to her right side and he reaches out a hesitant hand. “Muddy. Dark blue and green. Anger and fear.” Jane frowns, the last couple words hanging in silence. Angry and scared were words Jane would use to describe herself from years prior. But now? She strongly believed it wasn’t true anymore. Gesturing vaguely, she asked her next question.

“Why are the colors in different places?” Twelve, shrugged. “Different meanings.”

He gestures like he had before, listing what each section meant. “Above is what you think about. Right is old, left is new.” Jane nodded, a soft smile of relief gracing her features.

“So fear and anger are leaving.” Twelve mumbled in affirmation. Jane turned as a breeze blew by, letting the information sink in. Twelve could learn so much about a person before he spoke a word to them. That was surely a power Brenner could have made good use of, if Twelve ignored the man’s aura. Which he thankfully did not. Did aura extend to changing the mood of a room? She supposed it could as it was changing the aura of a room, in a sense. Was her Telekinesis any different from her inner eye? Yes. So that gave her more than one, so Twelve having more than one wasn’t too odd, if he did. The small hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and she turned enough to meet his gaze.

He quirks his head. “Questions?” Jane searches him quietly before nodding. “Yes.” Twelve smiles to let her know it was okay.

“Do you have more?” He grunts softly, making his confusion audible. “Powers.” She finished, not missing a beat. He nods and she frowns, thoughtfully. She should ask next about Brenner, about how he got Twelve and if Twelve remembered anything _before_ Brenner and the lab. She kept herself from asking why his nose wouldn’t bleed while viewing her aura. Her interest in his powers took a front seat as her posture dipped forward.

“What are they?” She continued. Twelve reached out, his hand hovering above her own.

“Can I?” She nods, lifting her hand and placing it in his. She watched as his eyes flutter closed, and his thin fingers wrap around her palm. Jane’s attention tore to her hand, her brows furrowed in a mixture of disbelief and concern as it grew warm.

Warmer?

_Hot_?!

Thankfully, Twelve stopped before his heat left first-degree burns. Pulling her hand away, she stared down at her palm, eyes wide and aggressively rubbing the flesh with her opposite thumb. It didn’t hurt, but it was an odd feeling having the heat continue to pulse from her hand even after his hand had gone. She wasn’t sure what someone would call a power like that, or if it was all in her head. Perhaps his hand hadn’t gotten hot at all, but he made her believe it did. Like Kali and the butterfly. Glancing up at him, she found that blood trickled from his left nostril, pulling a confused frown onto her face.

“Why?” She asked before she could think. “Why what?”

She points obnoxiously at his nose. “Your nose didn’t bleed. But now it is. Why?”

“Less effort for aura. More for Inner Flame.” Inner Flame. So that’s what he called it. It was an accurate name though it left a lot to the imagination on whether or not it was mental. Jane shifts to face the old fire as she held out a hand. Lifting one of the smaller sticks she holds it out to him. The stick dangles from thin air, idle before he reaches out and touches it. Jane nods before throwing it away. Twelve turns to where the stick would land and his eyes narrow with determination. The stick stops just a foot above the ground before faltering and clattering to the dirt.

Their gazes meet and even more blood is leaking from Twelve’s nose. His eyes tear up from the pure force of him trying before fluttering shut. Shaking his head, he grasps his head.

“Hard,” He mumbles. Jane plucks the tissues that Hopper had given her from her bag and passes them to the boy. He looked about ready to pass out, his eyes falling shut each time he even attempted to move. He took the tissues gratefully, tearing open the plastic and smudging away the red liquid. Jane could only grimace, watching in silence. That was definitely not how Hopper said to do it.

It was a while before Twelve could talk without gasping, blink without swaying, and turn his head without it hurting, but Jane was, strangely, willing to wait. She fiddled with the calculator watch she had begged Hopper for after learning what the device was called. Making random number combinations and then subtracting 11 from them. It was more of a wanting to know what happened if her dead name was subtracted from bigger numbers. Dustin taught her how to count past 11, it was frustrating, but fun.

Eventually. She could only count to 56. 83 if she really tried.

Math was a subject she hated. English was fun though.

Looking up from his smaller baggie of popcorn, Twelve met Jane’s awaiting gaze, an odd expression on her face. Shifting, he turned his body towards her, smiling softly.

“More talk?” Jane hummed before nodding. Looking down at her calculator watch, Jane tapped the screen. “It is 2-2-4. Dustin will come looking for us soon. So we have to talk fast.” Twelve squinted, scanning the watch, Jane holding her wrist out for him to see. Nodding, Twelve repeated the time.

“2-2-4.”

“Yes. School ends at 2-3-5.” Twelve again nods, repeating the numbers. “2-3-5.” Jane couldn’t tell if he was doing it out of confusion or to help himself better remember, but there was a slight twinge of satisfaction at being able to teach someone similar to herself. Like Kali taught her; even if the lessons weren’t all that nice, her heart was in the right place.

“How did Papa find you?” Jane choked out, frowning softly. Twelve expected the question, nodding softly.

“Papa said my mama was special. That she helped me be powerful. He said she gave me up because I was too much.” Jane frowned. She wanted to tell him that Brenner was lying, but how was she supposed to know what happened with someone else’s parents just because of one instance with her own mother?

Because Brenner couldn’t be trusted.

“There was... The vitamins, too...” Jane quirked her head, frowning. “Vitamins?”

“Yes. When I was a baby. Papa called them ‘brain food’.” Shaking his head, Twelve grimaced in confusion. “They didn’t feel good. My head hurt.” Twelve reached up to place a careful hand on his scalp, the memories of the thick pills that tasted like metal, echoing through his mind. He slapped his lips, the taste rising at the back of his throat.

“And the tests-”

“It’s okay.” Jane mumbled, shaking her head. Her eyes were glossy and smile solemn. “You don’t have to go back. You never have to see Papa _ever_ because we’ll keep you safe.” Twelve frowned.

“We?”

“The party. Mike and Dustin and the others. And _me_. We can be your...” Jane searches the grass, actually giving her words thought for the first time since they’d gotten there. Did she honestly want him around? To protect him? She pondered on the slim chance that this could be more than just a spur-of-the-moment decision. She could put her friends in so much danger with just this _one decision_. Her eyes stop on a flower, the stem standing tall above the grass. Just as much danger as Mike put his own town in when he took her in. Turning back to Twelve, she nodded. “We’ll be like your family. You don’t have to go back.” Twelve frowned when a tear traveled slowly down Jane’s cheek. He reached out to catch it only for his hand to be pushed away. “Sad.” Jane only shook her head, wiping the tear away.

“I’m okay.” Twelve nodded slowly, Jane trying to gather her bearings. Twelve offered her a tissue, Jane taking it thankfully. She dried her eyes and cleared her nose, the residual feelings still lingering. It was news that both kids had to take in. To really register. The duo agreed that silence was probably the best way to do that and spend the rest of their time together. Twelve seemed to like humming a lot more than talking. His soft hums drifted along on the wind leaving a cloud of homeliness on the campsite. Jane didn’t know why he insisted on doing it so much, but it was a welcome change to the still air.

Precisely at 2:35, the school bell rings in the distance, scaring away birds and halting Twelve’s humming. He didn’t jump this time, mumbling the information that Jane had taught him. “2-3-5,” A breeze blew by with the coming anxiety of the party finding them in the meadow. Sweaty palms and goosebumps plague them as they watch the border of the meadow. The meadow that Jane had begrudgingly shared with Mike and Will. Will liked the area for the flowers. He found them inspiring to draw and Mike really liked the fantasy feel. Made him feel like he was a Paladin on a quest.

Shutting her eyes, Jane figured she might as well pinpoint where they were and if they were any closer to getting there. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in the Dark Room; the party wandering slowly in the distance. Running over, she took in that Dustin was just a tad bit peeved that she lied.

“This is what happens when we leave _anything_ with El.” Dustin grumbled.

“Like we can leave you with anything either. Where’s my limited edition _Captain America_ comic book, you thief?”

“ _Bard_. It’s pronounced _Bard_.” Lucas sighs, taking a wide step. Jane could tell that it was a root he was stepping over. Max shifted her skateboard to her opposite arm, sending a grin to Will.

“ _I_ think it’s a good thing. What do you think, short stack?” Sending Max a playful glare, Will smiled. “She wanted to talk to him. El tends to get impatient.” Jane wrinkled her nose at the comment, catching a brief second of Dustin stumbling over another root. Well, at least he and Twelve weren’t all that different.

“This is bullshit, she couldn’t take him somewhere easy to get to? Like, I dunno, a _diner_ or something? Maybe a gas station?”

“You’re just mad ‘cuz you can’t lift your legs high enough to avoid a _root_. A root!” Mike teased, laughing when Dustin stumbled trying to hit him. Lucas chimed in, making a sound of childlike interest. “No, see-Dustin just really wants a snack, you know how he gets. All this walking makes him hungry.” Dustin scowls, as the two fall into riotous laughter.

“I hate this. How close are we?” Will nodded. “Well, you’ve only stumbled over two roots, right?” Dustin sighs, but nods. “Tell me when you trip again. There are three roots.” Gasps from Dustin and Max echo each other, eyes wide with surprise. Will’s laughter came out in giggles as Lucas patted his back proudly.

Jane blinked, finding herself back in the clearing with Twelve. He was watching her in interest, his eyes wide, and unblinking as if he’d miss something. Jane stood from the log, dusting off her pants. Reaching out, she pulled Twelve to his feet as the Party finally reached the outer ring of trees. Hurried, running footsteps, and Jane turns, stuffing her hands into her dungaree pockets. Dustin searches the ground and the area surrounding the campsite looking for any sign of a scuffle. Lucas flicked the lip of his trucker cap, scolding him in a whisper.

Mike pants, speaking first. “El. You skipped the rest of school.” Nodding, Jane dipped her head. “Yes. I’ll grab my work tomorrow.” Will grinned at the promise, Max taking a step forward. She drops her Skateboard by the old fire with a whistle.

“This place is sick, J.” Jane smirked, letting her own gaze dance along the treetops.

“It’s my secret place.” Dustin watched Twelve and Jane, suspiciously, the gears within his head clinking together clumsily. He couldn’t find one bit of unease or discomfort radiating from either of them and it was stumping him. Lucas grunts at the stack of discarded tissues that Twelve was trying to clean up. He noted that a good few of them were stained red with blood. Frowning, he gestured to the pile.

“Would either of you like to share what _did_ happen?” Twelve looked up from his small pile of tissues, looking between them and Lucas. Jane turns to look at him, a soft smile on her lips. Twelve swallows when everyone’s gaze falls on him. A quick dip of Jane’s head later and Twelve finds the confidence he needed. Dropping the tissues into his bag, he zips it up and pulls it onto his back.

With a tentative grin, he nods. “We talked.”


	12. Invasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> | shit hits the fan.
> 
> sorry if anything is not canonically correct to Brenner, I don't remember much from season 1 and can't watch it with the situation i'm in atm. let me know if you see any incorrect info that really bothers you and we can correct it

The cabin was alive with heavy footfalls and shouted directions. Animals in the general vicinity ran away to avoid the aggressive noise that echoed through the trees. The aggressive noise that was Jane complaining. It was just another morning in the Hopper household. A late one, but a normal one nonetheless. Coincidentally, Hopper woke up late, which then made Jane wake up late. Jane could melt glass with the heated glare that stayed stagnant on her expression. Hopper wasn’t all that keen on going to work, either way, his throat itchy with pollen and ignored allergies.

That and it wasn't like there were any _big_ cases he could lead an investigation on. There were the usual complaints between Eugene and Merrill on crops, but it seemed like the town fell into a constant mellow of calm. And it left Hopper anxious. Every day, he was on the edge of his seat just waiting for something to happen. _Anything_ to happen. Anything besides Eugene ravaging through Merrill's corn field. He couldn't remember much of life before the Upside Down, but he knew it wasn't as dull as this. It couldn't have been. There were cases every now and then. Like that woman and the owl that attacked her. That was at least more interesting than Merrill paying some teens to spray paint 'jAck-Ass' on Eugene's barn wall. 

They were growing old and he could care less at this point, but that didn't lessen the attentiveness he gave them when they made a complaint. Just because they acted like a couple of elementary school bogarts, didn't mean he could half-ass the work. A job was a job.

“Kid-have you-” He coughs. “ _Jesus_ -seen my belt?” He calls, rubbing his throat. He winces, regret surging in his throat. Jane grumbles out a 'no' as she steps briskly past him. She couldn’t find her _own_ belt let alone his belt. Her gaze scans the living room for his hip pouch, hands in her pockets. She spins on her heel, stepping into the kitchen. Searching the counter, she noted the orange sticky splotch from the glass of Orange Juice she had the night before. She refrained from tapping it to watch her finger slowly pull from the substance. Shifting, a soft glint caught her eye. On the floor sat Hopper’s belt in a discarded heap. With a heaved sigh, she snatches it from the ground and passes it to him on the way back to her own room. Hopper smiles, clipping the accessory around his waist. In the couch cushions, he finds her belt peeking out. It had obviously been whole-stuffed into the crevice. He wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not, though part of him hoped it was.

It'd be a funny story for dinner table banter. Yanking it out, he holds it out, dangling in the doorway of her bedroom. A sigh of relief and her scowl leaves for a brief second. She pulls the leather belt through the hoops of her pants, her backpack on the floor beside her.

Just another _normal_ Hopper Family morning.

Within minutes they were rushing out to the truck, climbing in and locking in their seatbelts with a click. The vehicle roars to life, peeling out of the area and scaring more harmless animals in the process. The front is quiet besides the soft crunches of Sunflower seeds from Hopper and hums from Jane as she watched trees go by. On her lap sits a baggy filled with leftovers of the Eggo Tripple Decker Extravaganza from the night before. Hopper always tried his best to make enough for her to go to school with. The truck maneuvered it's way to the road just a couple miles away, the bumps ignored as they listen to the soft hum of the radio. It would be a 20-minute drive to the school and another 15 to get to the Station from there. Hopper groaned when he realized he’d be an hour late to work. Flo _hated_ when he was late. He sincerely hoped no one tried anything funny while he was struggling with school time systems.

Pulling down the visor, Jane peered at her reflection in the mirror, mumbling softly. Turning to glance at her father, she tried to comb back her bangs.

“I look the same.” Hopper grunts, spitting out the seed shells within his mouth. “What?”

“Boring.” Hopper’s face contorts with confusion as he tosses another couple of seeds into his mouth.

“You do not-”

“ _Yes_ -” Sighing, he rolls his eyes. “Okay, fine, then-” He turns to glance at her quickly growing head of hair. Shaking his head, he cursed lowly. God, girl's hair was intimidating. “Pull the front back like you always do-That little ponytail thing.” Jane stares at him in silence, his gaze returning to the road. She looks again at her reflection in the mirror, turning her head to look over her hair. Grabbing a section, she turned to Hopper again.

“Pigtails?” Hopper glanced at the bushel of hair she had. Nodding, he shrugged. “Sure, that’s-that’s not boring.” He bit his tongue to keep from saying ‘right?’. Thankfully, Jane nods in agreement, splitting her hair in two. She ties one side back with her favorite blue hair tie, turning her attention to the other side. Hopper spits out the shells in his mouth like clockwork, tossing another couple in. Turning onto the next road, he used his free hand to gesture vaguely.

“Three parts, right?” Jane nods, splitting the section. “Yes,” Hopper grunts. His eyes narrow as he tried to remember how to braid hair. He’d done it once or twice by himself, and they came out... _Fine_. They were a bit lumpy, he’d admit, but he knew what a braid was _supposed_ to look like. It’s been _years_ , though. He takes a calming breath.

“Left under... Under Middle. Then the Right-the Right moves to the Middle.” Jane swapped pieces of hair with his messy instruction, repeating the motion until she reached the end of her hair. She tied the end with a ribbon from her bag, twisting so Hopper could look it over.

“Is it okay?” Hopper gave it a glance, wincing at the handiwork. It was exactly how his braids always looked-lumpy. Swallowing, he planned his best dad answer. Kids don’t tease all that much anymore, do they? Nodding, he turned back to the road. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s good, don’t-” He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.” She smiled, pride radiating off her. She releases the opposite section of hair and flies into braiding it. With each movement, she mumbled the instruction. This next section came out only slightly less lumpy. Tying it off, she replaced her blue hair tie to her wrist, dropping her hands to her lap.

“Braiding is tiring.” She complained, dully, as Hopper pulled into the school lot. Hopper scoffed, giving her a crooked grin. “Oh, really?”

“Yes. Will you do it for me? Next time.” She makes sure to add the end when Hopper frowns. Turning to look over the road, Hopper rested his arms on the steering wheel. Planning his approach, he cleared his throat.

“Kid, you’re already late, let’s talk about this when we get home-” He turns, meeting her pouting face. “I didn’t say no-”

“You didn’t say yes.” She retorts, removing her seat belt. Hopper snorts, shaking his head. Reaching over, he plucks the handle, opening the door. “Look. I promise next time, I’ll help you. Happy?” Jane grabs her bag, throwing it over her shoulder.

“Promise?” Hopper hides the shiver that travels down his spine at the thought of having to do little braids with his gigantic hands.

“Yeah, promise.”

Jane smiles, shrugging nonchalantly. “Halfway-happy.”

And with that she turns on her heels, running to the building. Hopper spends a moment waiting, making sure she enters the building before starting the engine again. He yanks the door closed with a sigh. Shaking his head, he pressed his foot against the gas, driving up the road. “You’ll _braid her hair_ next time? Jesus...” Hopper heaved a sigh, pulling onto the main street, a distasteful grimace taking his face. “I _promised_.” Why didn't he just offer to take her to Joyce? Surely, the _mother_ of two knew better than he did what to do with hair. _Girl_ hair. Even Nancy Wheeler would be a better choice. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he threw himself back into parenthood. Especially with a 14-year-old girl who didn’t know much besides dressing and feeding herself. And, well, throwing crap with her mind. He knew she deserved a _somewhat_ normal life after everything that happened. Somewhat because they lived in a cabin out in the middle of jack shit nowhere, for Pete’s sake. Besides that, though, Hopper needed Jane just as much as she needed him. They were in healing and it took some time, but Hopper was ready to start that process.

Hopper had expected some things from taking in Jane. Her sneaking out to hang out with those kids, questions for anything that existed but she'd never seen before. But, being shouted at until he quit smoking definitely wasn’t something he planned on. Jane was sick of the smell and the smoke that filled the cabin occasionally when he’d smoke inside. It was rare as he only did it when it was too cold outside, even then, he tired his best to smoke by a window. He didn’t see what the problem was. It didn’t help that an infiltration of anti-smoking commercials was starting to pop up sparingly on the channels that Jane watched. After hearing that it _killed_ and _hurt families_ , she glared in disgust every time Hopper smoked. It started off innocent, she’d share what she thought on it every so often, but Hopper never thought anything of it. Until his cigarette boxes started to go missing. From there, he knew this wasn’t just Jane learning and sharing her thoughts. She was intent on cigarettes leaving both their lives.

So now Hopper was forced to eat Sunflower seeds every time he even remotely thought about wanting to smoke. If she wanted him to quit, he'd definitely try.

The Station’s building peeked behind out from behind a couple of buildings as Hopper fumbled to stuff the bag of seeds into his pocket. He pulled carefully into the parking lot a soft feeling of anxiousness building on the back of his neck. Adjusting his hat, he plucked off his seat belt. As he got closer to the building, the feeling grew stronger. A blind feeling of coming doom or bad news. He almost hoped it was just him breaking out into Hives from his allergies. Stepping through the door, he sent an uneasy glance through the window. From what he could tell everything looked fairly normal.

He really needed a smoke.

“Hey, chief!” Powell called, waving from his seat at the table. Callahan gave Hopper a friendly nod as the man made a beeline straight for the coffee machine. He grabbed his mug, filling it with the dark liquid and putting only a spoonful of sugar into it. Turning, he came face to face with Flo. Her face was flat with seriousness, a concerned glint in her eyes. He opened his mouth to greet her, but fell silent when she spoke first.

“Chief, there’s a case I need to speak to you about.”

Shutting the door, Hopper heaved a hesitant breath. Flo stood idly by the guest chair, a thin manila folder in her arms. Removing his hat, Hopper placed it on the rack nearby. He settled in quickly, setting his mug beside him on the desk and taking the thin folder from her hands. He'd have written it off as just another complaint from the two farmers if it wasn't for the sticky note of the front. In quickly scrawled chicken scratch, _to Chief Hopper’s hands directly_. With a couple exclamation points for emphasis. Hopper recognized the handwriting to be Murray Bauman’s himself. He almost scoffed at the mention of the man, but the dry silence that Flo left him in made him too uncomfortable to be himself and the atmosphere needlessly heavy. Clearing his throat, he pulled open the folder. He almost drops the item to the desk with the shock that hits him.

An image of a white van parked outside of a large house sits at the top of the pile of case information. His eyes narrow as he plucks it off the top. Underneath is a vague case file of a house break-in that had happened just days before. The Brady’s. Of course, Murray fucking Bauman could get this kind of information so quickly. Hopper takes his time sifting through the papers, a brisk sweat forming on his skin. He skims the information, taking down as many mental notes as he needed. Across the desk, Flo still waits. She shifts unconsciously, fixing her glasses with each page that Hopper turns.

Clearing her throat, she speaks up when he lands on the final sheet of paper for the second time. “Do you think-”

Hopper shakes his head. “No. She’s...  She's barely recognizable.” Flo nods, softly. Folding her hands, she finally takes a seat, resting her hands on her lap. Hopper mumbles a couple words from the paper before slowly shutting the folder. He reclines at a snail’s pace until his back hits the backrest of his chair. He wasn't sure if it was the shock that kept him so quiet, that made him seem so aloof to what this case meant or simple disbelief. The silence stretches between the two of them, filling the air around them, making it almost too thick to breathe. Taking a deep breath, Hopper meets Flo’s gaze.

“How long has-”

“Just got here today, Jim.” Hopper nods and the silence returns. He just wasn’t sure how to take this information. That could just be a picture of any old white van. It could be a cable company doing a check-in. It could be a group of vigilantes. He wished it was those ridiculous vigilantes. Shaking his head, he plucked the packet of seeds out of his pocket. He ignored the weird look he got from Flo, grabbing a handful and dumping them into his mouth. He crunches meticulously, staring at a scratch on his desk. The case was way too similar to Martin Brenner’s MO. Or what they knew of it. To take a phone call, sneak in, and quietly kill all witnesses. The only body that hasn’t yet turned up was the House Keeper. God knows what the lunatic wants with her.

This seemed messy, however. Rushed. Brenner wasn’t known to leave any evidence. To leave any trace of ever being anywhere. For him to be caught by a camera _and_  the weapon on the scene after a kidnapping? Whether or not it had fingerprints was beside the point. Brenner certainly was in search of _something_ , but if it was Jane he was looking for, he wouldn’t have to work in such disarray. Putting his feet up on the desk, Hopper snatched the image of the van, staring intently at the black-suited man who sat in the front. No disguises.

Hopper swapped cheeks, chewing on the opposite side. Was Brenner being this reckless on purpose? It could be just a ploy to lure out people like Murray Bauman. That could have been the idea all along-to capture Murray. Brenner could get information on a man like Bauman whenever he wanted, Hopper figured. Perhaps they’d already had Murray in custody. If that was the case then the whole thing got more complex.

What would Brenner want with _Bauman_ in the first place?

“Jim?” Hopper grunts, halting his chewing. “I can practically hear the gears in your head. What is it?” Hopper drops the picture onto the desk, staring off, thoughtfully. Glancing at Flo, he shakes his head.

“I don’t know.” Flo hums in understanding. Sitting up, Hopper rests his arms on the desk as he pours out what thoughts were running through his mind. Flo listened word for word, nodding but never commenting on the messy theories. By the end, she seemed just as confused as he was. She spent some more time with the troubled man as he finished his coffee and spouted more crackpot scenarios. His shocked silence flopped for a constant waterfall of ideas tumbling from his mouth. He wanted to figure it out as quickly as possible to protect Hawkins and the kids. Jane, specifically. Sitting on the edge of his desk, Hopper shifted seeds within the palm of his left hand. In his mouth was the third handful of seeds he’d started eating since receiving the news. His gaze was strong on the small tack board directly across from him. He was running on fumes, withdrawal symptoms, and running _out_ of ideas.

If he could just have _half._ Half of a cigarette. Jane'd be fine!

Taking in a breath, he paused his seed-shifting. “When was the last time we heard from Murray?” Flo shrugged.

“Who knows. He wasn’t even the one who gave me the case.” Frowning in confusion, Hopper peered at the woman from over his shoulder. Suspicion was fierce in his eyes. “Who _did_ you get it from?” Flo gestured to the folder.

“A teen, I believe.” Hopper’s frown deepened. “‘Said he was interning with Bauman and that Murray really wanted you to have that file.” Shaking his head, Hopper's face contorts with confusion as he spits out the shells hiding in his cheeks.

"Murray doesn't do _internships_."

Flo shifted, to stand by Hopper, curiosity lacing her features and hiding the dread his comment gave her.

“You think there could be another one? Here?” Hopper turns to glance at her. “Another what?” Flo gives him a knowing glance over the rims of her bifocals. Hopper waved away the idea, returning to staring at the wall. “There can’t be.” Flo places a stern hand on her hip. “And why’s that?” Shaking his head, Hopper turned to look at her dead on.

“There’d be-sightings, complaints.” Flo shrugged, turning to leave the office. Of course, the kid could be too scared to interact with people, but wouldn't there still be at least _one_ sighting of a stray kid? Opening the door, Flo paused. She lets her gaze fall on Hopper, her expression blank. “You say he can't be looking for Jane. Well, then what else could he be looking for, Jim?" Hopper doesn't answer, sending her a silent glare. She takes that as her answer, nodding.

"Maybe they're an old case. Around the same time as...” She contemplates the chance before finishing her thought. "As Jane's escape." She murmurs, her voice dropping. And Will's disappearance. Another kid's disappearance would be hidden under all the paperwork they had piling on their desks at that time. And he barely had any time to breathe with Joyce losing her mind. Possible.

Hopper halts his seed-shifting. “An old case.” Nodding, Flo takes a step back into the office.

“Or there isn’t a case at all. No one reported the child missing.” Hopper is silent, his head dipped in thought. A kid missing from that reservation outside of town wouldn't be reported. Sickening, but also possible.

Did he know anyone with cigarettes? Joyce still smoked, right?

Shrugging softly, Flo turns again to leave. “But that’s just a thought.”

“How fast can you get me all the missing kid’s cases from," He gestures to his tack board. "Around ‘81 and ‘83?” Flo shakes her head. 

“' _81 and '83_? Don't you have most of those _and_ the 70s??" He doesn't answer, quirking his brow. She huffs. "That could take all day-” Hopper nods, getting up from his desk. Grabbing his hat, he places it back on his head. “Then let it. Radio me as soon as you think you have something. Alright?” With an exasperated sigh, Flo places her hands on her hips.

“Alright.” Hopper moves down the hall, his steps hurried. “Where are you going?” Flo questioned, gesturing vaguely. Stopping in the middle of the hall, Hopper turned back to Flo.

“I've got leads of my own I can follow.” And with that, he steps past Callahan and is out the door. Callahan looks between Flo and Hopper in confusion, his expression turning to interest. He quirks his head.

“Whatarry’all talking about?” Flo pauses, glaring at the nosey, noodle-limbed officer. Waving him away, she shuts Hopper's office door.

“Just-Help me get these missing kid’s files for Jim.”

“Missing kids? What’s he doing looking through those again-”

“Less talking, more filing; let’s go.”


End file.
